


A Hundred Times Over

by IShipThem



Series: The Laws of Thermodynamics [1]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Be warned: there'll be suffering, F/F, F/M, Femslash February, It's all my beta's fault, Rule 63, This is an obscure crossover but you don't need to have watched Madoka to understand it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 162,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShipThem/pseuds/IShipThem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen-year-old Stephanie Rogers has been offered the chance of a lifetime: to have one limitless wish granted in exchange for fighting against the chaotic beings known as “Witches”. But Antonia Stark, the new student, is hell bent on keeping her from accepting, even though they’ve never met. Meanwhile, her best friend is struggling with her own wish, their mentor might  have feelings for her and a new girl arrives in town with her own agenda.</p><p>And Steph has no idea how much she’s being lied to. </p><p>(A Madoka Magica and Avengers crossover)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “You Could be Fated to Meet”

**Author's Note:**

> Special Thanks: to my beta, Azurresquirel on Tumblr, who was the reason this fic was written anyway and who helped me immensely. Thank you so much, Zuzu! Also to The Wife from Badromancenovelquotes for the forensic help and Mallamun for Norway Consulting. 
> 
> Warnings: this chapter is free. I'll give the warnings before each chapter - if anyone sees anything that should be notified that I didn't, feel free to warn me!

As soon as Stephanie opened the door, she almost wished that she hadn’t.

Outside the Witch’s Labyrinth, Manhattan was a wasteland of destruction and dust. The sky was dark and heavy, the buildings crumbling into pieces before her very eyes, fires breaking throughout the city and muted screams coming from far away.

“Toni!” called the girl, wheezing. Her lungs burned, the asthma threatening to get the best of her. “To…” she had to stop, coughing and bending over herself, her knees trembling.

Somewhere above her head there was an explosion.

Steph raised her eyes in panic, her curls sticking to her forehead – and finally spotted the girl.

Antonia was a blur of occasional gold against grey and black, way up high where the blonde couldn’t see her face. She had been slammed against the broken wall of what used to be an office building, the remains of her last blast still raining down the streets.

The ominous form hovering over Toni didn’t seem to have been affected in the least.

 _“Toni!”_ yelled Steph, struggling to regain breath. Her heart was palpitating painfully. 

“It’s useless,” called a leveled voice to her right. Fury was sitting peacefully on what used to be a stone bench, as poker-faced as always, his small, deep brown body nearly camouflaged in the surroundings. She couldn’t help but think of a tiny, eye-patched black panther every time she saw him.

“What do you mean, useless?” Stephanie demanded, trying to calm her racing heart. “What will happen?”

“That witch is too powerful for her,” replied Fury, absolutely sure. “If Antonia can’t win, it’s probable Manhattan will be completely destroyed. It’s unlikely she will survive, but – I’m sure she knows the risks she’s taking.”

“What? _No!”_ gasped the girl, panic rising in her throat. “She can’t do it alone! Is there no one who can help her? _Toni!”_ pleaded Steph, screaming weakly over the distance that separated them. “Toni! Stop that! Back up! _You’ll die!”_

“She can’t hear you,” interrupted Fury, finality in his voice. Above them, the brunette got hit by a blast of energy, crossing her arms over her chest to protect her Soul Gem.

“I have to _do_ something!” growled Steph, closing her hands into fists.

“Do you?” inquired her companion, turning his full attention towards her. “Do you wish to be able to help her, Stephanie Rogers?”

“I have to, or everyone will die!” panted the girl. “But how? I’m not… I can’t…” she trailed off, thinking of the long list of health issues neatly written in the school’s nurse office. “I can’t do anything.”

“You have more potential than you realize, Rogers”, disagreed Fury. “If you became a Magical Girl, too, you could be the greatest heroine on Earth. It would cure your body.”

“And then I could help Toni?” whispered the blonde. “And everyone else?”

“You only need to make a wish,” confirmed the Incubator, firmly.

Steph held her breath. “All right.”

Behind her, too far away to be heard, Toni screamed.

.  
.  
.

“Wha…?”

Stephanie blinked her eyes open. Around her, morning light slipped in the bedroom, her clock buzzing loudly as it announced the time.

“Steph!” called Jean, knocking on her door before opening it carefully and sticking her head in – she was wearing an apron and holding a frying pan in the hand that wasn’t on the door knob. Her hair was tousled, there was flour on her face and her pajama bottoms were stained with jam – yet Jean looked as beautiful as always. She did, after all, model for a living and to pay for college. Even though she was six years older than Steph, the two of them had known each other forever, and the only reason Stephanie could attend her elite school was because Jean had convinced her parents she’d look out for their little girl.

“You up?” Asked Jean, leaning against the door frame. “Okay, it’s my turn to make breakfast. Tora is already whining about pop-tarts and I swear to God if Quinn throws one more paper plane at the back of my head I’ll strangle her. So get your ass to the table before this turns into a food fight. Do you want eggs?”

The girl yawned, still a bit dazzled from the dream. “No, thank you. I’ll be right down.”

“’kay then. Oh, right!” Jean had nearly closed the door when she opened it again, adding: “Almost forgot. Nathan crashed on our sofa _again_ , so don’t forget to put some pants on.”

“Maybe we should just tell him to move in.” commented the blonde, getting up and walking towards her drawer. “The guy practically lives here already.” 

“Of course,” her friend rolled her eyes dramatically. “Because having Nat and Quinn under the same roof every day would be so _peaceful_. Terrific idea, Steph.” 

“Philly can control them.”

“Philly _doesn’t bother_ controlling them until they spill something on her work papers. And she’s supposedly in charge of the lot of us.” Jean rolled her eyes again, “Besides were would he sleep? We’re packed.”

“Ah, well… I could move in with Brenna and Tora,” offered up Stephanie, with her most innocent smile, “and Nat could move in with you.”

Jean stared at her. Then stared some more.

“Funny,” she replied, in a dry voice. “Very funny. And sneaky. I shouldn’t have given you that opening, should I?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” sung the girl, sweetly. Jean stuck out her tongue at her.

“Okay, let me go before Quinn annoys poor Brenna too much.” she declared, shaking her head. “But me and Nathan _are not_ hot for each other!” she added, before closing the door dramatically.

Steph laughed and pulled her jeans up, not bothering to brush her hair.

Downstairs, the kitchen table was a mess already – Philly, the oldest and legal owner of the house, was calmly reading a book, oblivious to the ruckus around her. Steph couldn’t figure out how she found the time to be so sharply dressed and astonishingly efficient this early in the morning, her suit falling on her body so perfectly she could’ve been born in it, not one strand of her short, practical hair out of place. Jean always insisted Quinn _had_ to have a teacher or boss fetish or something, because the girl nearly drooled in her breakfast every morning when Philly walked in.

Right now, Steph could see Quinn kept one hand under the table right over her girlfriend’s knee, even as she stole Nat’s waffles with the other. The ginger – sole guy in the all-girls republic – sent deathly glares at his best friend every few seconds, but that didn’t seem to bother Quinn in the least. Her brown hair was up in a ponytail as always, out of the way and slightly loose from the morning jog she’d already ran. Quinn was the athletic type. Steph hardly ever saw her out of her running pants and sports bra, or missing the bandages in her fingers from overdoing it on the archery club. Nat was equally talented, but he tended to dress a bit more discreet and classy, maybe simply because he was trying to look presentable in a house with younger girls.

They were already in college, had dated for three years before Quinn met Philly, and bickered constantly.

“Good morning, Steph,” greeted Nat, sending her a soft smile as she entered the kitchen. Quinn took advantage of her distraction and stole another waffle, making the ginger slap her fingers.

Tora tried to echo the words, but her mouth was still full, so it came out as a “’oof mo-lwin, Spepa,” before she swallowed and tried again, “morning, Steph.”

Stephanie laughed. “Morning, Tora. Morning, everyone. Morning, Brenna,” she added, only to tease. The last girl at the table raised her eyes from her assignments, looking at Steph over her glasses, a bit dazed as if coming up from a deep dive in the ocean.

“Hmmmm…?” murmured Brenna, blinking. She had a sweet face and messily chopped hazel hair, probably because she much too often cut it herself, too immersed in her studies to go to the hairdresser. Sometimes, Steph wondered if Brenna felt a bit out of place amongst them. She and Tora and were only fifteen, and everyone else was already above twenty, while Brenna was still eighteen. She hoped it didn’t make her feel lonely. 

Steph smiled, amused, shaking her head. Brenna shrugged and lost contact with reality again.

“It’s your turn to wash the dishes,” informed Jean, putting a plate down in front of her best friend. 

“Actually,” interrupted Tora, forcing down a big bite of food with generous gulps of juice, “I was hoping we could exchange duties today, Stephanie. Could you wash the dinner plates?”

“Well, sure, but… oh, right.” She smiled, lowering her voice. “You’re visiting James tonight?”

Her friend smiled, a bit embarrassed. Tora looked like her in some ways – she had long blonde hair and blue eyes. But that was pretty much where the similarity ended. Tora’s hair was full, straight and thick, tied in two braids that fell over her shoulders, while Steph’s was thin and curled at the ends. Tora was tall for a girl her age, had been the first of their class to fill out and was strong enough to knock any of the guys down. Steph was the shortest person in their year, thin with a delicate complexion and more health problems than she cared to memorize.

That must have been why people were constantly trying to redirect her to the elementary school.

“Tell him I said hi,” asked Steph, skillfully dodging the piece of toast that had been meant for Nat.

“No food fight at the table.” warned Philly, without ever raising her eyes.

“So sorry, pumpkin,” apologized Quinn, batting her eyelashes flirtily. Steph was just glad their bedroom was far away from hers and Jean’s.

She finished breakfast and hurried upstairs to get ready. She and Tora were just about to leave when Jean intercepted them, juggling the hairdryer, her brush and her purse. “Wait up, you two,” she called, turning the dryer off. “Steph, come over here.”

“What is it?” asked the girl, curious, following her friend back into the living room.

“Really, Steph,” sighed Jean, eyeing her critically. “You are fifteen. You are a _girl_ , although sometimes I wonder if you forget. You should be a little vainer!”

“You want me to be _vain?”_ deadpanned Stephanie, raising her eyebrows.

“Just a _little bit_ more,” corrected the woman, rolling her eyes as she opened her jewelry box. “You have to work your assets. So I’m taking matters into my own hands. There you go,” she whistled happily as she picked a blue ribbon from the box.

“Jean, you really don’t need…” protested Steph, even as her friend made her sit down, swinging the brush like a sword.

“But I _want to,”_ insisted Jean, before pointing a finger at Tora, “and you too, young lady, don’t think I’m not onto you. Do you even brush your hair?”

Tora shrugged, obviously trying to bit back laughter. “Sometimes,” she mused. 

_“Help me,”_ pleaded Steph, soundless.

“Shush, you,” chastised the older girl, undoing her simple, low ponytail and running her fingers through her curls delicately. “I’m just prettying you up, Steph, I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Ah, _all right,”_ she gave in, smiling fondly at Jean. “So what are you…”

“Just fixing your hair,” promised Jean, swiftly pulling locks into place. “I’ll keep it simple. Just a princess ponytail.”

“A what?”

“A _half_ ponytail,” she explained, patiently, securing the hairdo with an elastic band before covering it up with the blue ribbon, her fingers easily making a lace. “There you go. It matches your eyes.”

“Thank you, Jean,” said Steph, smiling up at her friend and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Jean kissed her loudly in the cheek.

“Okay, then, off you go, before you are late to school,” she advised, picking her hairdryer again. “I’ll catch you tonight, Tora!” she added, shooting a look at the girl, who laughed.

They finally left, calling “See you later!” over her shoulders, to which Jean called back, “Don’t go off protecting the innocent today, Cap!”

“She just never gets tired of that stupid nickname,” complained Stephanie, rolling her eyes and Tora laughed, light-heartedly.

“Perhaps if you didn’t pursue fights with every single person at school that makes a mean comment.” She pointed out, fondly, “Or insisted on saving every kitten in the neighborhood. Or volunteered at the hospital on weekends. Or…”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” mumbled the blonde, blushing. Tora laughed loudly and threw an arm around her skinny shoulders.

“I’d follow you into any battle, Captain America.”

Steph smiled. All in all, she was in a great mood when they arrived at school, her weird dream completely forgotten as her teacher randomly rambled something about scrambled eggs. She felt sorry for the woman – she sure hoped someday she’d find someone special.

“Well,” sighed the teacher, composing herself, “now, for other news, I’d like to introduce a new student to the class.”

“Shouldn’t she have done that _first?”_ Sighed someone to her left and Steph suppressed a laugh. She wondered who it is that managed to enter after classes had already begun – either someone incredibly talented or incredibly rich. Or both.

“Miss Stark, can you please come in?”

As soon as the new girl stepped into the classroom, Steph’s heart leapt right out of her throat.

It wasn’t even that she was gorgeous – although she was. Her dark black hair was buzzed short, as short as Quinn’s, but hers was curly and curved gently around her face, at the base of her neck, behind her ears. Her eyes were a deep shade of blue set in strong features and thick eyebrows that made them even more powerful. She had naturally tanned skin that seemed to have paled due to lack of sun, and the beginnings of what would probably be fantastic curves.

It also wasn’t the way she held herself, even if it would’ve called Steph’s attention any day of the week. One of the girl’s hands was resting on her hips, her posture relaxed and indifferent, as if there were much bigger matters she should be attending to rather than class. Her tie was loose, and there were far too many accessories according to school rules, gold piercings up her left ear, boots that were _certainly_ not regulation, and a slight light under her shirt that the girl didn’t know what to make of.

It wasn’t even that the stranger was looking directly at her with overwhelming intensity, although that was disturbing.

It was that this girl – Antonia Stark – was the same girl she had dreamed about last night.

“Stephanie?” called Tora, shaking her very delicately by the shoulder. “Is everything all right?”

“Ah, yes,” she breathed, tearing her eyes from the stranger’s. “I’m fine, Tora, thank you.”

“Hey”, greeted the stranger, all charm and an ironic smile, her bag dangling from one shoulder as she waved to the class in general. Steph could almost feel when the weight of her stare left her. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Antonia was absent from school for a long period due to a heart condition”, informed their teacher, gently. “She’s just moved here, so don’t forget the city, as well as the school, is very big and easy to get lost in. I expect everyone to be as helpful as possible. Antonia, you can sit right there in front of Cassandra.”

Antonia stared at Stephanie for a few more seconds, her lips set in a determined line, her eyes unflinching and searching. Then she nodded at the teacher and sat down, her posture not quite laid-back, but certainly not attentive, either.

Steph tried to calm herself down – she couldn’t have been staring at her. They’d never met each other. Stephanie was just the tiny, unremarkable blonde girl in the middle row. The new girl surely couldn’t have been staring at her. 

But she thought about the navy blue eyes digging into her and couldn’t help but glance uneasily at Antonia’s back. And keep staring throughout the entire day, even as she tried to force herself not to, as the brunette excelled at everything she tried.

“It’s truly remarkable”, admitted Tora, subtly impressed and a tad jealous as Antonia beat her speed record as easily as if she was going for a walk. Stephanie was still feeling uneasy. 

_“Already?”_ She hissed to her friend, mouth hanging open, when Antonia handed the math test barely ten minutes after it started. Her own sheet was already a mess of eraser dust and faded pencil lines. Tora didn’t answer because she was having problems of her own. They surely hadn’t been accepted into the school for their math skills.

Lunch was a particularly bad experience.

Antonia had sat at a table hugging the wall, on the far end of the cafeteria, obviously trying to stay away and alone. It had not worked. Half the girls of their class were clumped around her, asking questions at the same time like eager puppies.

“What school did you attend before?”

“What are your favorite subjects?”

“Those boots are neat, where did you buy them?”

“Your hair is so pretty, Antonia, why do you keep it so short?”

“It’s more practical that way,” mumbled the girl, inattentive. She was resting her cheek against one hand, absently eating her fries, and her boredom couldn’t have been more obvious if she had hung a neon sign on top of her head reading _Not Interested_.

Steph wasn’t sure who she pitied more: if the girls for the cold treatment they were receiving, or Antonia, who simply couldn’t manage to be left alone.

She could practically _feel_ the new girl rolling her eyes, impatient. 

“Hey, you know what I was just thinking?” asked a guy, who, by the way he was leaning into her personal space, was either really oblivious or a huge jerk. “Stark. Isn’t that the name of that super rich guy who invented…”

 _“No.”_ hissed Antonia, jerking upright, the first emotional reaction she had shown so far. From all the way to where Steph was sitting, the movement startled her, making the girl jump in her seat and nearly spill her juice. Antonia’s face had closed off like storm clouds, tension and anger boiling just under the surface.

“No,” she repeated, between gritted teeth. “We are not related.” Everyone watched in shocked awe as the girl took a deep breath, calming herself, her fists uncurling. “You know, I actually should get going.” said Antonia, suddenly opening a smile brilliant enough to blind. “I just got out of the hospital and I still have to take medication. I’ll just go down to the infirmary to get my pills, okay?”

“Ah, I’ll show you where it is.” promptly offered another guy, probably trying to seize the chance his friend had missed.

“No, no need,” refused Antonia, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I already have someone to go with me.” 

Steph had pointedly turned her eyes away from her when she’d snapped, not wanting to be caught snooping, so Tora’s surprised face was the only warning she got before someone tapped her in the shoulder.

“Rogers,” called an already too-familiar voice. Steph raised her head already blushing too hard, wondering if Antonia had noticed her eavesdropping. “Let’s go?” asked the girl, annoyance and indifference notably mixing in her voice.

“Go where?” babbled Stephanie, stupidly. The corner of Antonia’s lips twitched.

“Infirmary,” she clarified, pulling her bag up. “You have to take your medicine, right?”

“What?” Steph blinked, shaking her head. “Oh. Oh, right. Right, my medicine. Yes, I have to…” She looked around, clumsily trying to gather her belongings, her cellphone falling out of her bag, hitting her knee against the table’s leg when she tried to get up. “Just, wait a minute,” she asked, hurriedly picking everything up. “I’ll see you at class, okay?”

Tora raised her eyebrows at this, sending a suspicious look at Antonia, whose expression was as unimpressed as ever. “Do you want me to accompany you?” she finally offered, briefly taking her eyes off the new girl and already getting up in a protective manner.

“No, no, Tora, it’s all right,” assured Steph, finally getting her bearings. “I’ll be right back.”

“Are you _sure?”_

“I’m not going to bite her,” snapped Antonia, mildly annoyed. “I need to take my pills, too.”

Tora stared at her with open animosity. 

“Let’s go,” urged Stephanie, walking away before the two girls ended up fighting for real. Antonia followed her.

They walked in a deeply unsettling silence for a few seconds, Antonia marching ahead with too much purpose for a new student. Steph was just about to tell her to turn a corner when she did it by herself, completely familiar with the school’s layout.

“Uhm…” hesitated Steph, hurrying to catch up. She was shorter than the brunette, and a lot slower, it seemed. “Antonia…”

“‘Toni is fine,” interrupted the girl. She shot a look over her shoulder, noticed Stephanie trying to catch up and slowed down. “With an ‘I’,” she added, oddly.

“Toni. Right.” Steph took a deep breath, unsure. “How did you… how did you know I had to go to the infirmary, too?”

Toni made a brief pause. “The teacher told me,” she answered, shortly.

“Ah.”

“You have a heart condition too, don’t you?” questioned the girl, and Steph was surprised by a small hint of sympathy in her voice.

“Amongst other things,” she agreed, friendly. Toni nodded.

“I hear you get yourself into a lot of trouble,” she commented, almost offhandedly. Steph blushed.

“That’s not exactly true,” the girl defended herself. “I don’t go around _looking_ for trouble. Jean keeps saying that I must like fighting, but I don’t. I really don’t. I just… don’t like bullies. Oh. And Jean is my sister. I mean, not really my sister. But we were raised together – she’s older – and we’re living together, because… I’m sorry.” She cut herself off abruptly. “I was babbling.”

“It’s fine,” whispered Toni, her shoulders tensing almost unnoticeably. “I’m just thinking, you look kinda small to be picking up fights.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Steph, growing a bit defensive.

“I mean,” replied the girl, stopping dead in the middle of the corridor and turning towards Stephanie. “That this girl, Jean, she probably worries a lot about you. So maybe you should think of helping _her_ out first, not getting yourself into trouble, rather than helping complete strangers just because you think you have to.”

Stephanie stared at her, absolutely dumbstruck. “Excuse me?” she managed to muster, breathlessly.

“You shouldn’t butt in other people’s business.” said Toni, cold-eyed. “You’re a lot more help just staying out of trouble.”

Then, without waiting for a reply, Toni took off, too fast for Stephanie to keep up even if she had already recovered from that blow.

When the school day finally ended, Stephanie’s nerves were positively fried.

“You have dreamed about her?” Repeated Tora, stopping with a cookie halfway to her mouth, blinking her blue eyes at the girl. She blushed, feeling her cheeks go hot.

“Well, it was… a weird dream,” she stammered, melting in her seat. “But I’m pretty sure it was her. I think… I think she was _staring_ at me. And then she gave me this _talk_ in the corridor. I couldn’t even believe it.”

“Have you ever met her?”

“Not that I can remember.”

Tora nodded solemnly, assuming that expression she usually got when she was talking about her father or politics or self-defense. “It might be a prophetic dream,” concluded the girl, surely.

“What does that mean?” inquired Steph, raising her eyebrows.

“It could mean many things!” boomed Tora, shaking her soda at her. “You could be fated to meet. Partners. Allies. I do not trust her, however – so maybe enemies.”

“I don’t really think I’d like her as my enemy,” confided the blonde, shuddering, before changing the subject. “Should we stop by the CD shop and buy something for James?”

“Good idea!” Tora gave her a wide grim, getting up and snatching Steph’s bag up before she could protest. “I believe there’s a new CD by a band he likes.”

Steph smiled and tried not to think of the new girl – tried not to think of the way her heart leaped when their eyes connected and the foreboding sensation that run down her spine, and, specially, tried not to think about her blue eyes.

Stephanie was only beginning to forget about her remarkably weird day, when it got ten times weirder. 

She and Tora were at the CD shop, and Tora was wandering aimlessly between the aisles, unsure. Steph felt sorry for her friend – she always tried too hard, putting effort into every little last detail, but when it came to James’ musical tastes, Tora was at a complete loss. She observed as the girl debated with herself, picking a CD, then dropping it and picking another, growing a bit fidgety until she finally fished out her cellphone and wandered off as discreetly as she could to call for a second opinion.

Steph had just put on headphones, trying to give Tora some privacy, when she heard a vague whisper. Blinking, she took the phones off, looking towards Tora to see if her friend had called her – but Tora was far away, partially hidden from view, one hand over her ear as she talked on the cell. She was just about to shrug it off when she heard it again.

 _“Stephanie!”_ called out a voice, urgency marked in every syllable. Steph jerked, startled, putting the headphones back in their place.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

 _“You need to help me!”_ answered the voice. Its tone was demanding and authoritative, a call for duty, and yet she could hear the panic under the surface. _“Stephanie! I need help!”_

“Where are you?” asked Steph, grabbing her bag from the floor and hushing outside the CD shop.

 _“Over here!”_ it replied, getting fainter and farther away. Stephanie hurried as fast as she could manage, following its trails through a maintenance door that had been left open. 

“Where are you?” repeated the girl, turning around, trying to spot the owner of the voice. “What’s the problem? Where are… _AHH!”_ screeched Steph, staggering backwards clumsily as something dropped heavily at her feet, in a mess of rope and old card boxes. 

Lying on the floor, painting and bleeding, was a small animal that Steph at first thought was a cat. Then she noticed the tiny black marks on his fur and the shape of its snout. It looked a lot more like a black panther than a cat.

“Are you okay?” gasped Stephanie reaching out and delicately pulling the animal into her lap. “Were you the one who was…?”

_“Watch out…”_

_CLANG._

The girl jumped, edging backwards, ready to be on her feet and make a run for it. A heavy metal chain fell from the exact same spot the panther had dropped, creating echoes through the entire corridor, loudly.

Stephanie looked up, trying to see what had made them fall.

“Toni?” she panted, shock jolting her muscles into standing up.

Surely, it was Antonia – there was no way she’d ever misplace the intensity of her stare – but Steph took a moment before she could fully take in what the girl was _wearing._ Her school uniform, as well as her many accessories, were gone. 

In its place, she was wearing lace-up boots with square heels that hugged her calves – a layered skirt made of black lace, rusty red leather and golden patterned see-through fabric. Her bodice was a stylish mess of leather belts with golden buckles on top of a blouse fashioned out of more black lace. She had dark gloves reaching up to her elbows and the same subtle blue glow coming from under her shirt.

And unless Stephanie had a concussion or some sort of hallucinatory fever, those forms hanging next to her waist, strapped to one boot, secured in her hand and slung across her back – those were guns.

“Let go of him.” demanded Toni, sticking a pistol back in one of her belts. Her voice was cold, lifeless and hard – even her eyes seemed to have become glassier, unfeeling. She stood with her feet apart, ready to fight, looming over Steph.

The girl gulped. “What did you do to him?” she retorted, holding the tiny animal closer to her body, taking one step back.

Toni’s mouth twitched. “It’s none of your business.” replied the girl, taking a step forward, mimicking Stephanie. “Let go of him before you get hurt, Steph.”

“He asked for my help!” pointed out Stephanie, protective. “I think it is my business!”

“Is that so?” murmured Toni, her eyes falling for half a second to the panther’s body. Stephanie held her breath, her muscles tensing, unsure of what Toni would do – she looked as if she was ready to make a grasp for the animal, and the girl wasn’t sure she could fight her. 

Okay, no, who was she kidding. She _definitely_ couldn’t fight Toni.

Just as Steph was getting ready to run for it, someone turned a fire extinguisher on the girl, hitting her square in the face with white foam.

“Steph, over here!” urged Tora, keeping a steady flow aimed at Toni.

“Tora!” cried out Stephanie, promptly dashing away from the brunette and taking her friend’s hand. Tora tossed the fire extinguisher at Toni, turning around and pulling Steph along urgently.

They ran away as fast as Stephanie could.

“What was Antonia doing in here in that manner of clothing?” growled Tora, grasping the girl’s fingers tightly. “And what did she intend to do with you? Did she threaten you?” asked her, looking back at Steph angrily, as if ready to go back right now and give Toni a piece of her mind.

“No,” she wheezed, shaking her head and grasping the panther tightly with one arm, “but I think she was after him.”

“What is it? It looks like a cat.”

“I don’t think he’s a cat,” coughed Stephanie. Tora finally took the clue and stopped in her tracks, allowing her friend to rest and catch her breath as she kept watch.

“What is he, then?” questioned the girl, looking curiously at him. Steph took a deep breath, straightening herself and holding him better.

“I’m not sure. He _looks_ like a panther. But I think I heard…” she bit her tongue suddenly, staring over Tora’s shoulder. “What is that?”

Tora turned around, startled. That’s when things officially stopped making sense.

Afterwards, Steph had difficulty retelling what had happened, or even recalling it in a way that made it remotely comprehensible. All she knew was that, all around her, colors, forms and sounds exploded, turning the world upside down and wrecking all of her senses. Their surroundings changed, wrapping unto themselves, folding and unfolding, layers of unknown objects spreading outwards. The air became hard to breath, heavy with something Steph couldn’t identify, but that made her chest ache and her heart clench.

“What is happening?!” yelled Tora, trying to back away from the madness. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know!” replied Steph, searching madly for a way out. “We were in the corridor just now!” 

This wasn’t reality.

Suddenly, she froze, her limbs locking in place. “Tora…” warned Stephanie, pointing and grabbing her friend’s arms.

This wasn’t reality.

It could _not be_ reality when they were surrounded by deformed creatures that faked at being butterflies and dandelions. Their voices were high and screechy, making her very bones tremble. Light itself shook, disturbed and wrong, hurting her eyes.

And the creatures were closing in on them.

“This cannot be happening,” whispered Tora, holding Steph closer to her, and the girl felt her friend slightly shivering against her. “Steph, this cannot be happening, right?” she pleaded, her voice tense.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” she breathed, trying to back down – but there was nowhere to go.

One of the things charged at them.

Tora and Stephanie screamed, crouching down and clinging to each other.

And then, a circle of light burst around them, shoving all the atrocities away violently.

“Now,” whispered a stern voice somewhere above them. “I don’t think I can allow these two to get hurt.”

Breathing hard, Stephanie raised her head from Tora’s shoulder towards the voice. A girl was walking calmly towards them, holding a small yellow gem that glowed with warm light. She was wearing their school uniform, although she looked noticeably older. Her hair was short and carefully curled, chocolate brown, as well as her eyes. She was wearing red lipstick, taller than Steph but shorter than Tora, and was absolutely beautiful.

“Hello,” greeted the girl, stepping in front of them and offering a hand to help them up. “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”

“Who are you?” asked Stephanie, blinking fast, adrenaline still making her muscles shake. The girl smiled.

“My name is Peggy Carter,” she answered, pulling Tora easily to her feet, surprisingly strong for her petite build. “And I’m taking from your uniforms that you are from my school?”

Steph agreed, dazzled. “Arts program,” she explained, simply.

“Sports scholarship,” added Tora, looking around still wary. “What are these…”

“Oh,” Peggy blinked, looking over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. If you will excuse me for a second, I have an issue to take care of.”

With that, she turned her back on the girls and calmly walked to the edge of the circle. The creatures outside the barrier fussed up with anger, but Peggy simply stared at them.

The small gem in her hand radiated light, blinding Tora and Stephanie.

When the light died off, Peggy was different. Her clothes had changed, but it was more than that, something Steph couldn’t put her finger on. She could only see the girl’s back, her silhouette clad in what resembled a military outfit, glowing subtly with yellow luminosity.

“Stand back, girls,” she warned, stepping outside the circle.

Steph saw Peggy taking her beret off – and then, suddenly, there were shotguns all around, firing with a deafening _boom_ , explosions bursting loudly and eradicating the creatures. They screeched, dissipating and scattering as they were hit, clearing the area out until there was nothing left.

Tora gasped besides her, her eyes widening. Steph’s breath quickened briefly.

Slowly, the distorted world around them began to waver and fade.

“It’s disappearing!” she exclaimed, relief flooding her.

“Incredible,” whispered Tora, in awe. Peggy smiled at them over her shoulder. Now Stephanie could see her better – her skirt was beige-yellow, frilly, as well as her military-styled bolero and the white shirt underneath it, neatly topped by a ribbon instead of a tie. Her heeled boots clicked on the floor when she turned around, softly adjusting her beret sideways, where it was held in place by a bird-shaped gem working as a hair pin.

She looked upwards, her eyes narrowing for a moment, and Steph followed her gaze.

 

Antonia was standing on top of a nearby pile of boxes. She stared down at the three of them with ice-cold eyes, silent.

“The witch escaped,” informed Peggy, nicely, smiling up at the girl. “If you wish to catch her, then you should hurry up.”

“I have other business I have to see to,” replied Toni, glancing almost unnoticeably at the panther, passed out in Steph’s arms. The girl rotated her body, partially hiding him from sight.

“Maybe I should have been clearer,” Peggy insisted, her polite smile never fading. “You should go, now.”

Stephanie’s muscles clenched, ready to break into a run again if needed – It looked as if these two were about to go at each other’s throats. But why? What did Toni want with the panther? What did this other girl want? 

Antonia stared at Peggy for an uncomfortable amount of time, the silence stretching tensely. 

Finally, Antonia turned around and left without a sound.

Steph and Tora sighed deeply, finally relaxing. Peggy smiled at them again.

“Can I see him, please?” she asked, outstretching her hands towards the panther. 

Stephanie’s arms tightened as she took one step back. She glanced uneasily at the girl, then back at the small animal, hesitating.

“What are you going to do with him?” she asked instead, trying to inject authority into her voice. Peggy blinked, caught off-guard, and then slowly smiled again, reassuringly.

“I’m going to cure him,” she answered, sounding even impressed. “He’s my friend. I won’t harm him,” she added, noticing Steph still looked insecure. “I promise.” 

“She _did_ just save us, Steph,” murmured Tora, leaning into her ear, “and he’s bleeding. I believe we can trust her.”

“Well… I guess you’re right,” agreed Stephanie, reluctantly passing the panther over to the girl. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll be perfect,” promised Peggy as she slowly kneeled, gently laying him down and taking off her fingerless gloves. Her palms glowed again with that warm yellow light, slowly closing and healing the cuts all over the small animal’s body.

“Is that magic?” wondered Tora, awed, leaning forward. 

Peggy smiled, “A sort of magic,” she replied, still concentrating on her work. Slowly, the panther begun to squirm, blinking his eyes open. 

“Peggy,” he said, sitting up, “did you save me?”

“No, sir,” denied Peggy, shaking her head. “You should thank those two – when I got here they had wandered into a Witch’s Labyrinth trying to protect you.”

“I see.” The panther turned towards them, sitting upright and properly, “So you girls saved me. I must thank you – Stephanie Rogers and Tora Odinson.”

“You know our names?” gasped Tora, hurriedly sitting down at his level.

“He talked to me,” informed Stephanie, sitting down too. “I heard him, at the CD shop. He called for my help – he knew my name!”

“That’s right,” agreed the panther, looking intensely at Steph – the girl noticed he had a darker ring of fur around one of his eyes, like an eye patch. “My name is Fury. And I am here to ask something of you.”

“Of us?” Steph and Tora exchanged a look. “But what could you need from us?” asked the girl, leaning forward.

“I’m here to ask that you make a contract with me,” explained Fury, in a solemn voice, “and become a Magical Girl!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hi dear readers! ~~ a bit of a backstory on the fic: It's my beta's fault. She began talking about Loki being a Magical Girl, so we began brainstorming ideas and thus I began writing. She was an immense help as a beta, specially because my first language isn't english, so I end up making a lot of mistakes with false friends and awkward wording. She's awesome. Any fan of Madoka on tumblr should be following her.
> 
> The Wife helped me a lot on Toni's backstory and with the summary because I suck at those. So thanks to her. And to Mal, who helped me write Loki and Tora without being absolutely ignorant about Norway.
> 
> Also, I am not the only person working in a Madoka/Avengers crossover, although I don't know how the other project is doing. Oh, well. Also, this fic is already pretty underway, and I was saving it for posting for Femslash February. So don't worry about me never updating again, okay? Kudos to anyway who's reading this! ;DD


	2. "...amazing!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings in this chapter!
> 
> Once again, thank you to my beautiful beta Azure Squirrel. The next chapter will begin diverging more from the original Madoka.

“Stephanie. _Stephanie._ Cap? Blonde? _Steph?”_

__“Hummm.”_ _

__“Steph, at least say something so I know you are not dead.”_ _

__“Mmmm… what…?”_ _

__“Well, good to know you are still breathing.”_ _

__Slowly, a bit unwillingly, Stephanie opened one eye. The image took time to come into focus, gradually coming together to reveal Quinn, wearing her track suit as always, shaking her shoulder._ _

__“Quinn?” slurred the girl, pressing the palm of her hands to her eyes and feeling for her clock. “I don’t have to be up for another half-hour,” she sighed, burying her head in the pillow._ _

__“I know,” replied Quinn, taking a quick glance to make sure they weren’t disturbing Jean. There was no need to worry – the girl was completely passed out, one arm dangling outside the bed, cuddling with her covers. “But I will be out all day today, so I wanted to talk to you now, you know?”_ _

__Steph raised her eyes again, curious. Quinn knelt at the side of her bed, crossing her arms over the mattress and resting her chin on them, their faces close._ _

__“Is everything okay?” whispered the girl, blinking._ _

__“All dandy, don’t worry,” laughed her friend, softly. “But Steph, you came home pretty late yesterday, didn’t you?”_ _

__Her cheeks flushed almost instantaneously. “A girl from my school invited Tora and me over for dinner.”_ _

__“Hey, that’s great, kid,” cheered Quinn, passing her fingers through Steph’s hair and messing it even more. “But you know, we got worried back here. You know how Jean and Philly get all touchy when they are worried.” She made a face, dramatically rolling her eyes, making her giggle. “Philly washed the dinner dishes, but next time, just give us a heads up, okay?”_ _

__“Sure, I promise,” agreed Stephanie, embarrassed. “Sorry, Quinn. Philly could’ve left the dishes, I’d have done them when I got home.”_ _

__“Nah, don’t worry about it,” the woman waved a hand, dismissive. “We don’t mind spoiling you now and then, Steph, you totally earned that right.” She smiled. “Okay, so go back to sleep, I’m going out. See you tomorrow.”_ _

__“Good run,” wished Stephanie, yawning deeply and pulling her covers up again. The morning was chilly and she was having a really weird dream…_ _

__Except…_ _

__…dream?_ _

__Alarmed, Steph raised her head, leaning on her elbows, and looked around frantically. “Fury!” she hissed, urgently, spotting the black panther by her nightstand, “What are you _doing?_ Did Quinn see you?”_ _

__“Don’t worry, Stephanie,” he replied, unbothered, not even opening his eyes, “No one can see me but you.”_ _

__She blinked. “Can you do that?”_ _

__“Hm-hum,” confirmed Fury, sleepily. “It’d be problematic if regular humans could see me at any time. Your friend didn’t know I was here.”_ _

__“Oh,” she breathed out, relaxing. “Good.”_ _

__Steph thought about going back to sleep, but now she was wide awake. The girl turned around, laid on her back, and stared at the ceiling. So, it seemed, yesterday had really happened._ _

___._  
.  
. 

__“Please make yourselves comfortable, girls,” offered Peggy, turning the lights in her apartment on. Steph held her breath and Tora visibly tensed, walking around carefully to avoid bumping into anything as she was prone to do in closed spaces._ _

__“It’s a beautiful place, Peggy!” complimented Stephanie, hurrying up to follow the girl. She smiled._ _

__“Thank you. I think I still have cake in the fridge.” she murmured, putting Fury down on the couch. “You can hang your bags over there.”_ _

__“Do you want any help?” offered the girl, pulling the strings over her shoulder. Tora hung her backpack with the care of a surgeon operating a brain tumor, placing it as gently as she could on the rack. Steph held back a laugh._ _

__“Yes, please.”_ _

__They put down plates and cups in the living room table, sitting comfortably on the couch and eating over small talk before finally discussing the topic at hand._ _

__“Well,” begun Peggy, putting her fork down and resting her plate on the table. “I’m sure that all of that must’ve been confusing for you two.”_ _

__“Verily,” agreed Tora, edging forward eagerly. “Especially the treacherous new transfer student!”_ _

__“You mean you were more worried about Toni than about the murderous abnormal dandelions that were trying to eat our brains?” remarked Stephanie, raising her eyebrows at her friend. Tora stared at her perfectly serious._ _

__“No,” she replied. “But you’d _expect_ for a monster to act accordingly. Shouldn’t a Magical Girl act more honorably?” She paused, then crossed her arms. “‘Toni’?”  
Stephanie blushed._ _

__“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” interrupted Peggy, calming the mood. She leaned forward and opened her hands, cupping her Soul Gem in her palms. Stephanie and Tora held their breath. “This is a Soul Gem,” explained the brunette. “It is the source of a Magical Girl’s magical power. We create one when we form a contract with Fury.”_ _

__“A contract?” repeated Steph, blinking._ _

__“Yes,” answered Fury, hopping from the sofa to sit on Peggy’s armchair. “I can grant you any wish – anything at all you desire – and, in exchange, you form a contract with me and become a Magical Girl.” He paused, “And a Magical Girl’s duty is to fight Witches.”_ _

__“Witches?”_ _

___._  
.  
. 

__Stephanie nearly got crushed by a sleepy Jean when she opened the bathroom door. Laughing, she shouldered her friend, guiding her to the shower._ _

__“How do you even find your way to the bathroom every morning?” Steph teased, as she blindly tried to get the water running._ _

__“Knocking into a lot of walls,” mumbled Jean, finally getting a cold spray of water in her face. “WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHGHHHHHHHHHHUU.”_ _

__“Do we have a dead moose in the house?” called Tora, from her bedroom’s door._ _

__“Shut uuuuuuup,” groaned the woman, adjusting the temperature. Tora and Steph laughed, and the girl went back to brushing her teeth._ _

__“…hey, Jean?” murmured Stephanie, lowering her toothbrush and staring at her reflection in the mirror._ _

__“Yeah?” she replied, voice a bit muffled through the water and the shower walls._ _

__“What would you wish for if you could wish for anything in the world?”_ _

__Jean yawned, “What kind of question is that, Cap?”_ _

__“I’m just curious,” insisted the girl, rinsing._ _

__“Hmmmmm.” Her friend took her time answering. “Well, Steph, I don’t know. There’s nothing I really want that is so urgent.” She laughed, adding: “You know what? If I could wish for anything at all, I’d probably wish that the Fashion Industry had a face, only so I could punch it.”_ _

__“Is your boss giving you trouble again?” guessed Stephanie, brushing her curls._ _

__“He’s been trying to _subtly”_ Jean stuck out one hand to make exaggerated air quotes “inform me I should lose weight. It’s ridiculous. I’m at my ideal weight, I can’t lose anymore unless I want an eating disorder.”_ _

__“What are you going to do?” inquired the girl, hesitating before tying the blue ribbon Jean had given her on top of her sideways ponytail._ _

__“He can’t fire me anyway, his clients like me too much,” she explained, making a pause to wash her hair. “But if he ever actually says it to my face, I swear I’ll go to the papers and tell them every little dirty secret I have ever heard about him.”_ _

__“O-kay,” laughed Stephanie. “Now you are crossing into scary territory and I’ll be going.”_ _

__“Have a nice day at school, Cap,” replied Jean, cheerily._ _

___._  
.  
. 

__“What are… witches?” stammered Stephanie, looking at Peggy._ _

__“Are they similar to Magical Girls?” added Tora._ _

__“Magical Girls are born of wishes; and Witches out of curses. Magical Girls spread hope; Witches spread hate. Normal humans can’t see them, but they spread their evil influence all throughout the world.”_ _

__“Many suicides and homicides, as well as many other horrible things, are caused by Witch’s curses. The police can’t explain when those happen.” Peggy folded her hands on top of her lap. “Witches are the worst kind of evil.”_ _

__“But if they are so dangerous, why doesn’t anyone know about them?” questioned Steph, anxiously._ _

__“We told you: normal humans can’t see them,” repeated Fury. “They hide themselves in magical barriers, such as the labyrinth we entered yesterday.”_ _

__“Usually, when a human gets lost inside one, they never find their way out,” explained Peggy. “That’s why Magical Girls have the duty to fight them.”_ _

__“Magical Girls are the only ones who can stop them?” asked Tora, to which Fury nodded._ _

__“But Peggy,” interjected Stephanie. “Do you fight them all on your own? Aren’t there any other Magical Girls in town?”_ _

__“There are _a lot_ of Magical Girls in New York City, Steph,” replied the girl, laughing. “But this particular area is my territory only.”_ _

__“But why?” inquired Tora, confused. “None of the others can help you?”_ _

__“I’m sure they _could,”_ she agreed, “but it’s a bit more complicated than that. As it is, I can hold this area well enough by myself. However,” she fixed a serious gaze on the girls, “it is a very dangerous task, and I risk my life every day. To have any wish granted surely sounds incredible, but I think you should consider carefully if the price is worth it.”_ _

__Tora and Steph exchanged glances._ _

__“It seems it not as simple as it appears.”_ _

__Peggy smiled. “Fury chose you, and I believe there must be a reason. But we don’t need to hurry up. Why don’t you girls come with me tomorrow to hunt Witches?”_ _

__“Can we do that?” said Steph, excitement and dread bursting in equal amounts. “Won’t it bother you?”_ _

__“Absolutely not!” the girl shook her head. “You should know more about Witch-hunting before you decide anything.”_ _

___._  
.  
. 

__Tora’s head was up in space when they left home. She took Brenna’s lunch by accident and they had to run back home to switch it – Brenna was vegetarian and would possibly pass out if she got as much as a sniff of Tora’s meat-and-meat sandwich – which resulted in them being very late for school._ _

__“I _could_ just carry you, you know!” complained Tora, when they had to stop for Steph to catch her breath._ _

__“Or you could just go ahead!” remarked Stephanie, grumpily. “No need to wait for me!”_ _

__“I won’t run ahead of you, Steph.”_ _

__“Then quit complaining.”_ _

__“You’re really not that heavy!”_ _

__“You are not carrying me, Tora! I still have my dignity.”_ _

__“I am sure that if _Peggy_ offered…”_ _

___“Would you not put Peggy into this?”_ _ _

__“At least let me take your bag.”_ _

__“If you want to help, here, take Fury, he’s heavier than he looks.”_ _

__“Girls, you should be running more and arguing less,” pointed out Fury, calmly licking a paw as Tora shook him carelessly on the run. They didn’t bother answering._ _

__Tora and Steph were nearly reaching their classroom door when Tora hissed, suddenly and sharply “Stop!”_ _

__“What?” demanded the girl, halting to a messy stop, impatient. “What is it?”_ _

__“Antonia is in the classroom,” she explained, pointing through the door’s window, where, indeed, Antonia was sitting in the front row, looking intensely sleepy. “Is it safe to bring Fury in with us?”_ _

__“Do you think she’ll try to harm him in front of everyone?” doubted Stephanie, taking a peek at Toni. She seemed about to drop dead from boredom. Although she couldn’t fathom _why,_ Steph also thought she looked tense._ _

__Before Tora could reply, a third voice echoed in their heads: _“There’s no danger, girls,”_ Peggy reassured. _“I’m within easy reach. She won’t try to attack Fury today.”__ _

__They sighed heavily. “Well,” Steph tried to recompose herself, embarrassed, “we better get in.”_ _

___._  
.  
. 

__Tora put her teacup down somewhat loudly. “I do not trust her!” she declared, annoyed._ _

__“But isn’t she a Magical Girl like you, Peggy?” replied Steph, soothingly. “Does it have anything to do with what you said – that the others _could_ help you, but they don’t?”_ _

__“That’s precisely it, Steph.” agreed Peggy, sounding almost proud, and the girl blushed. “You see” the girl became more serious again “when you defeat a Witch, you receive certain prizes – Magical Girls are constantly competing for them. In a big metropolis like this we tolerate each other better because there are many more Witches, and they usually grow faster than in small towns. Even so, it is not uncommon for us to battle each other.”_ _

__“Is that why that girl was acting so pushy?” concluded Tora, fussing up in indignation. “Then why was she picking on Steph?”_ _

__“She was trying to harm me,” explained Fury, sitting up. “Stephanie was threatened because she tried helping me – I think she was trying to stop me from creating a new Magical Girl.”_ _

__“To avoid competition!” understood the girl, clenching her hands into fists. “That is most shameful! It is not the behavior of a true warrior!”_ _

__“That is true.” confirmed Peggy, looking at Steph. “She probably felt threatened by you, Stephanie.”_ _

__“By me?” she repeated, blinking. “Did she know Fury was trying to contact me?”_ _

__“It’s probable.” agreed the older girl, resting a hand over her soul gem and shrinking it._ _

___._  
.  
. 

__Toni didn’t look at Stephanie the entire day, acting as if the girl didn’t exist or as if they had never exchanged a single word. Actually, she spent the entire class doodling, and it didn’t escape Steph’s attention that, although the teacher noticed, she didn’t as much as peep about it._ _

__That wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence. Steph’s school only took in two kind of students – those who could pay, and those who were exceptionally talented. Turning a blind eye was old practice amongst the staff – passing grades far above what they had earned as to not distract them from their extracurricular activities, letting the richer students get away with minor infractions. Still, it wasn’t this teacher’s usual demeanor to ignore such glaring disinterest happening right in front of her face._ _

__Toni kept on doodling. Stephanie wondered again why she had been accepted in the middle of the term._ _

__It was hard to see what the doodles were from where Stephanie sat, but they didn’t look like typical Bored Fifteen Year Old Student. In fact, she was beginning to think they looked a lot more like schematics – and unless she was hallucinating out of worry for the upcoming geometry test, weren’t those math equations at the margins?_ _

__Tora nudged her in the ribs and Steph tore her eyes away from Antonia, staring at the teacher instead._ _

__At lunch, instead of sitting at their usual table, Tora and Steph carried their lunches outside and sat together at a bench overlooking the running tracks. Fury curled up in a patch of sun next to Steph and accepted bites of her sandwich. Quinn always packed too much, anyway._ _

__“Have you thought of a wish, Cap?” asked Tora, placing a napkin on her collar to keep sauce from spilling._ _

__“No… well, yes… I mean… sort of. Hmm, what about you, Tora?”_ _

__Her friend paused, staring intently at nowhere. She put the sandwich down slowly. “Well, I have been able to think of something,” she admitted. “But this is too serious a wish for me to be frivolous about it now… I still do not know.” Shaking her head, she raised one eyebrow at Stephanie, amiable, “What have you ‘sort of’ thought?”_ _

__“Honestly,” Steph took a deep breath, somewhat embarrassed, “you would think of an obvious wish choice for me, wouldn’t you?”_ _

__“Ah,” her friend nodded solemnly. “Your asthma?”_ _

__“My asthma, my heart, my everything?” she replied, petting Fury absently. “If I became a Magical Girl…”_ _

__“You could wish to become healthy,” finished Tora, smiling. “Can she wish for that, Fury?”_ _

__“Of course!” agreed the panther, sitting up. “I could make her much stronger.”_ _

___“You don’t need to wish for that, though.”_ _ _

__“Peggy!” exclaimed the two girls, looking around. _“Where are you?”__ _

___“Look up,”_ laughed the girl. She waved at them from a nearby window. _“I’m just making sure Antonia won’t bother any of you.”__ _

___“As expected.”_ mused Tora, smiling broadly._ _

__“I don’t have to wish for that?” repeated Steph, confused, looking down at Fury._ _

___“When you become a Magical Girl, your body becomes stronger by default,” _explained Peggy._ “The magic cures any physical disease you have.” _ _ _

__“How do you know that?” asked Tora, as her friend marveled at that possibility. Peggy didn’t get a chance to answer – Stephanie elbowed her on the ribs and pointed towards the school patio, where Antonia was heading towards them. “What _does_ she want now? What _do_ you want now?” repeated the girl, raising her voice as the new student approached._ _

__“So you already decided that I’m the villain in here, did you?” mocked Toni, indifferent. She stopped three steps away from both of them, towering over Steph, who suddenly noticed a white line – a raised scar – faintly showing through the girl’s neckline._ _

__“You tried to kill Fury!” replied Tora, shooting up to her feet and standing protectively on front of her friend. Stephanie sidestepped, getting out of their shadows._ _

__“I was trying to keep him away from Steph.” corrected Antonia, drily. Her eyes shifted to the panther, half-hidden behind Stephanie, and became colder. “I was late.”_ _

__“From m…?”_ _

__“So.” interrupted Toni, abruptly. “Are you going to accept? Fury’s bargain?”_ _

__“Why?” demanded Tora, smiling teasingly, “Afraid of competition, Stark?”_ _

__Antonia smiled even wider, a cocky grin coloring her features. “You wouldn’t _be_ any competition.”_ _

__“Why, you…!”_ _

__“Tora.”_ _

__Her friend stopped in her tracks, holding the reply at the tip of her tongue. Stephanie stepped forward and around Tora, facing Toni – even if she had to look upwards in order to do so._ _

__“I haven’t decided yet.” answered Stephanie, reasonably and steady. “It’s a very serious matter and I’ll give it a lot of thought. I might say yes and I might not. Was that all you wanted to say?”_ _

__There was a long pause – Toni’s stare was weirdly intense, uncomfortably focused, as if she was seeing much more than simply Stephanie. The girl couldn’t decipher it, but neither did she feel any malice in it. Actually, it was hard to determine _what_ she felt in it at all._ _

__“A lot of thought, right?” said Toni, and there was a tiny hint of irony in there somewhere. “Here’s something you ought to think about, Steph. If you have to _come up_ with a wish to make, then you can’t really want it all that much.” She paused, as if not sure whether or not it was wise to let the rest of the words slip. “You’re perfectly fine the way you are now.”_ _

__“I think I am the one who has to decide that.” disagreed Stephanie, holding her ground._ _

__Antonia glanced at Tora. _“That_ was all I wanted to say.” she murmured, turning around to leave. At the last second a thought occurred to Steph._ _

__“Toni, wait!” The girl halted and looked over her shoulder. “When you contracted… what did… what did you wish for?”_ _

__A silent explosion of unknown emotion flickered through Antonia’s face – her fingers twitched, as if wishing to clench into fists, and there was the slightest hitch of her breath._ _

__“I mean…” Steph stepped back, feeling suddenly ashamed of herself for asking that question. “I’m sorry. Forget I ever said that.”_ _

__Toni breathed deeply, her gaze lowering to the ground almost unnoticeably before she turned away and walked inside, head raised high and proud and – Stephanie was nearly sure – faking every last inch of it._ _

___._  
.  
. 

__Stephanie and Tora met Peggy in the parking lot, where the girl was waiting by the water fountain._ _

__“All right, girls,” began Peggy, standing with easy authority and openness. “I hope you are excited for your first Witch Hunting.”_ _

__Tora nods eagerly. “I am prepared.” she affirmed, pulling a baseball bat out of a bag that Steph had been suspiciously eying the whole day._ _

__“Where did you…” the girl stopped, sighing and burying her face on one hand. “Quinn gave it to you, didn’t she?”_ _

__“Aye!” confirmed Tora, happily waving it around to get a feel of its weight and dynamics. Peggy laughed._ _

__“It’s good to be prepared,” she complimented. “So let me just lay down a few rules,” she paused. “It’s important you stay next to me at all times. If I tell you to duck, do it, and if I tell you to run, do it – it’s very dangerous inside a Witch’s Labyrinth, and I have to trust you’ll obey when I need you to swiftly do something. Can I trust you girls with that?”_ _

__Stephanie nodded promptly – Tora took a moment to consider it, but nodded, too._ _

__“Fury, please stay close to the girls, too,” asked Peggy, and Steph held him up, making sure to have a firm grip. “Ready?”_ _

__“Let us go!” replied Tora, all eagerness and energy, walking purposefully ahead._ _

__“Stephanie?” called Peggy, holding the girl’s wrist to make her go slower. “Are you sure you have never met Antonia before?”_ _

__“I’m sure of it,” replied Steph, easily falling in a slower rhythm. Still, the question made her uneasy – having dreamt, or thought she had dreamt, of Toni… did that count as having met her before? Toni behaved so weirdly around her, almost as if they really _had_ known each other before. And what of her sudden speech in the corridor? Pursuing Fury and running right into her? _Staring_ at Stephanie so much? And why…_ _

__“I was just wondering,” murmured the older girl, staring ahead with a dubious expression, “why is she so set in keeping you from becoming a Magical Girl, but not Tora?”_ _

__“You noticed that, too!” she said, a tad bit too loudly, before catching herself. “I don’t understand, either. If she doesn’t want competition, she shouldn’t want Tora to contract either, right?”_ _

__“That’s what I was thinking,” agreed Peggy. She looked down at Stephanie, intrigued._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Nothing,” the girl bit her lips, shook her head. “No, actually. I think I might have a theory.”_ _

__“Do you?” Steph smiled, feeling just a little bit giddy. “And what is it?”_ _

__Peggy made a pause, examining her face, than smiled mischievously. “I will tell you one day.” she teased, before hurrying up slightly to catch up to Tora._ _

___._  
.  
. 

__The first stage of Witch Hunting involved a lot of walking and staring at Peggy’s soul gem. Tora bore dutifully through it, not showing the tiniest sign of irritation even as the hours stretched without a hint. Waiting was, after all, part of Hunting._ _

__Tora knew of Hunting, if nothing else. And this felt familiar. Natural. Even soothing, kindling fond memories that played at the back of her mind. Snow and blue skies, strong hands clapping her back, learning how to tie knots. Her younger cousins’ voices chattering in Norwegian and the smell of her mother’s cooking. Future promises of real Hunting Trips._ _

__Leaving the house with her father and looking behind her shoulder to wave at her family, and feeling distinctively that _there’s something that should be here…__ _

__“Tora?” called Stephanie, noticing her friend was lingering behind. Tora snapped out of her memories, realizing she’d been starting to turn her head to look back. Steph’s eyes followed her line of sight knowingly.  
“Is it…?”_ _

__“It’s nothing.” interrupted Tora, hurrying up and sticking close to Peggy once more. She didn’t want to discuss _that_ in front of the older girl._ _

__As for herself, Steph was having a bit more trouble accompanying them. Peggy and Tora walked in stride – Tora too concentrated to pay attention to her own rhythm and Peggy with a fierce sense of purpose that allowed for no slacking off. But Stephanie preferred it that way, preferred not to be treated like a little child. So she kept pace steadily, untying her sideways ponytail into a higher, more practical one.  
“Stop.” warned Peggy, making them both freeze immediately._ _

__They were nearing the entrance of an abandoned building, tape messily hung across the entrances with poorly written “KEEP OUT” signs stuck to them._ _

__Peggy was looking up, so they copied her, cramming their necks to look at the top of the building._ _

__Tora was the first to realize. “SHE’S GOING…”_ _

__Peggy surged forward before the girl could finish her sentence, her Soul Gem bursting into familiar yellow night as she jumped towards the unknown woman stepping off of the rooftop. Stephanie saw as the older girl threw her bird pin ahead of her and when it exploded into a larger bird made of light that softly caught the falling woman, slowing her fall for several seconds before gently laying her down._ _

__“Is she okay?” asked Steph, rushing forward and dropping to her knees next to Peggy. The woman had short auburn hair and was wearing a carefully pressed suit with strawberry-shaped earrings. There were faded ink spots on her hands and a wristwatch that had broken on the fall._ _

__“She’ll be fine,” assured Peggy, taking her pressure and checking her eyes. “She doesn’t have a concussion.” Nodding to herself, the girl moved the stranger closer to the wall. “You see this?”  
Tora and Steph leaned forward. There was a strange mark next to the woman’s collar._ _

__“What is it?” inquired Tora, frowning._ _

__“That’s a Witch’s kiss,” murmured Peggy, looking around. “The Witch must be in the building. We must take it down soon, before she wakes up again. Let’s go.”_ _

__The girl got up again, walking inside the building with slow steps, weary of her surroundings. Steph and Tora hung back, close enough for protection, but not so close as to restrict her movements.  
Peggy’s hair pin glowed. _ _

__Materializing out of thin air, the Labyrinth’s Gate took form ahead of them. Slowly, the three girls walked in._ _

__The Witch’s Labyrinth hadn’t gotten any less disturbing during their absence. Color, light and sound still behaved unnaturally, bending in sharp angles that made their very bones hurt. Tora swung her bat violently, hitting the butterfly-like abominations that tried to corner them. They advanced steadily._ _

__Stephanie kept her eyes on Peggy._ _

__The girl was concentrated – her focus never wavered, her guard always up. Steph could swear she saw her firing over her shoulder without even looking back. She advanced in the Labyrinth like an experienced soldier, only breaking form to make sure she and Tora were still around._ _

__Peggy was…_ _

___…amazing._ _ _

__“You should reach the center in about two minutes, Peggy,” warned Fury, perching on Stephanie’s shoulder._ _

__“Copy that, sir,” said Peggy, a tiny smile breaking her efficient look for a moment. They halted in front of a door filled with estrange runes. Motioning for them to get back with one hand, the girl took two steps back and kicked the door hard and fast, blasting it open._ _

__The Witch inside was as bad as its Labyrinth had led them to believe._ _

__Tora’s breathe hitched, “You must fight _that?”__ _

__Peggy’s smile grew larger. “Don’t worry about me. This one is small fry.” She sent a small wink towards Stephanie, “Be sure to pay attention!”_ _

__And with those words, she jumped inside._ _

__The Witch flared with anger, its butterfly wings stretching menacingly – Peggy didn’t react, except for teasingly stepping on one of the tiny, deformed creatures that littered the floor. Screeching with rage, the Witch threw itself over Peggy who was gone in a flash, somersaulting under its belly and firing two shots from behind._ _

__Stephanie and Tora gasped, both on tiptoe trying to see what was happening. It was hard to keep up – suddenly, there were too many guns firing, and both Peggy and the Witch became a blur of movement. Steph searched for the girl, wildly, finally spotting her when one of the spores grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her up in the air._ _

___“Oh no!”_ she thought, gripping Fury a bit too tightly._ _

___“She’s fine,”_ assured the panther, neutrally._ _

__The Witch swung Peggy around violently, like a rag doll._ _

__“Ah, frankly,” sighed the girl, pulling the ribbon that tied her collar. “You really are small fry.”_ _

__Ribbons erupted from the floor like water geysers, sprouting from the bullet holes, and clung to the Witch, wrapping around it like a cocoon. It shrieked, trashing around, and the tendrils that held Peggy up dissolved._ _

__The ribbon she’d been holding morphed into a huge gun, that she shouldered mid-air. And, smiling, shot it in the Witch’s face._ _

__Steph’s heart beat so hard she thought she’d pass out. Peggy landed again, perfectly safe and rested a hand on her hip, smiling up at the two of them._ _

__“Astonishing!” cried out Tora, buzzing with enthusiasm._ _

__Peggy giggled. “Okay, girls,” she bend to pick something in the ground and then straightened, outstretching her hand. “This is a Grief Seed.”_ _

__Resting on her palm, there was a tiny black ball with lighter engravings._ _

__“Is it important?” questioned Steph, awry of the object. The girl nodded._ _

__“Those are the reason Magical Girls end up fighting so much. When you defeat a Witch, they drop these.” She raised her Soul Gem with the other hand. “Do you see that my Soul Gem became clouded? That happens when we use magic. But with the Grief Seed…” Peggy brought the two close together – the Grief Seed sucked the impurities of the Soul Gem, leaving it bright and shiny again.  
Tora nodded, resting her hands on her hips. “I see. So Magical Girls compete for Grief Seeds.”_ _

__“They have limited use,” commented Peggy in a way of answering, then smiled knowingly and took a step back, throwing the object into a dark corner._ _

__Stephanie was just beginning to wonder what the hell had that been about when Toni stepped out of the shadows._ _

__She was still dressed in the school uniform, her expression clouded and unreadable – her posture, however, was only as tense as ever, not betraying any surprise at having been caught._ _

__“But that one still has one go,” finished Peggy, retreating her Soul Gem into ring form. Stephanie frowned, not sure why the action unsettled her._ _

__Toni’s eyes were the same intense, deep blue as always, her hair curling even harder because of sweat. Stephanie wasn’t so sure how she could be so detached all the time, so expressionless, and still feel the room with her presence wherever she stepped in. It wasn’t height – Toni wasn’t taller than Peggy. In fact, by general standards, she was reasonably short. It wasn’t bulk either – Toni could easily be overlooked in her petite, curvy complexion._ _

__Maybe it was sheer attitude._ _

__She looked annoyed for a moment as she threw the Grief Seed back at Peggy. Offhandedly, Stephanie noticed the girl had good aim._ _

__“That is yours,” replied Toni, her voice indifferent if slightly exasperated. “I don’t do charity and I don’t accept it.”_ _

__Peggy put the Grief Seed inside her pocket, her expression closing tempestuously. “Very well. Then I’ll try and not cooperate with you. If that’s what you want.”_ _

__Toni turned around to leave. “Just don’t get in my way,” she warned, before disappearing again._ _

__Tora growled lowly. “Exactly what is wrong with that girl?” she complained, mistrustful._ _

__“Some people are not very good at teamwork,” commented Peggy, shrugging. “Let’s check on the woman outside. She’ll wake up disoriented.”_ _

__Stephanie followed Peggy out of the building, trying not to look over her shoulder to where Toni had disappeared._ _

__Eventually, as she watched Peggy solacing Donna – who had introduced herself still shakily drying off tears – and silently awed that this person in front of her had just _saved someone’s life,_ Stephanie forgot all about Toni._ _

___._  
.  
. 

__Dinner that night was complete chaos, as it commonly happened when they ordered take-out. Philly didn’t even complain if they ate in the living room, although she did steal the souls of anyone who spilled food on the sofa – or so Quinn swore, even as Nat rolled his eyes behind her. Brenna had just solved a difficult math problem she’d been working in, and thus was much more cheerful and talkative, sharing a box of fried chicken with Jean and painting her toenails._ _

__“You are completely spaced out today, Steph,” noticed Brenna, making sure not to stain anything as she waited for her nails to dry. “What are you thinking about?”_ _

__“Ah, nothing really…” trailed off Stephanie, biting a mouthful to have an excuse for keeping silent. Brenna smiled, kindly._ _

__“‘Nothing’?” she repeated, turning her full attention on her. “Does ‘Nothing’ have a name?”_ _

__“Brenna,” Steph blushed, squaring her shoulders, “I was not thinking about a guy.”_ _

__“I didn’t say you were thinking about a guy,” laughed Brenna, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But you had a gleam in your eyes. I’m guessing you were thinking about something pretty impressive, weren’t you?”  
“Hmmm…” she fidgeted, remembering Peggy as the girl managed to take aim in the midst of being tossed around by the Witch and smiled shyly, “Yes, it was really amazing.”_ _

__“And does she or he or it has a name?” asked Brenna again, resting her elbows on her knees. Stephanie always marveled a bit at how prettier her friend became when she was like this – easy and peaceful and being a part of a group._ _

__“Well…” Stephanie scribbled in her notebook a bit more to gain time. “Her name is Peggy. Peggy Carter. She’s, ah, she’s older than me. Tora and I met her the other day. She’s…” the girl smiled at Brenna. “She’s really brave and responsible and very good at what she does. I’m beginning to really admire her.”_ _

__Brenna smiled, true happiness coloring her eyes. “That’s great, Steph! It’s good to see you are making new friends. Is she from your school?”_ _

__“Yes. But I don’t know how she got in,” explained the girl, feeling around for her eraser and trying to eat with just one hand._ _

__“And what does she look like?”_ _

__“Ahm… well, she’s taller than me, but shorter than Tora, and she has…” Stephanie put her pencil down, gesturing to her shoulders, “…hair like this, brown and curly. Her eyes are brown, too. She’s very pretty, in a… in a… well, not like she’d need a lot of make-up, you know? Kinda like she just _is_ very pretty. And she has an English accent.”_ _

__“You should invite her over for dinner someday,” suggested Brenna, passing her cup to Jean as she refilled for everyone. “Well, that is…” the girl sent an amused look at the mess going on around them. Nat and Quinn were loudly discussing the Olympics as Philly bravely tried to keep Jean away from the spicy stuff – “aw, c’mom, Phillipa, just _one little bite…” “no!_ You get ill every time and the entire house has to listen to it, honestly, Jean…” – and Tora talked on the phone in Norwegian. “That is if you think she can survive us, lunatics.”_ _

__Stephanie laughed, happy. “I’m pretty sure Peggy could handle them. And you shouldn’t say ‘us’, Brenna. _We_ are completely normal.”_ _

__Brenna laughed too, the sound small, fluttery and delicious. “Are we? Then why do we live with the crazy bunch? We can’t be that normal.”_ _

__They giggled behind their plates as the ruckus kept going steady around them. Brenna blinked, pushing her glasses up again, “What are you drawing there, Steph?”_ _

__“Oh? Oh, this.” Stephanie blushed, looking down at her notebook. She had been sketching, not even paying attention to what she was doing. Not until she realized she was making up Magical Girl costumes. “This is… a Super-Hero… Heroine. A Super-Heroine costume. I was just sketching a bit.”_ _

__“The girl looks like you.” remarked Brenna, looking absorbed at the drawings, “It’s a really good costume, Steph. Looks pretty patriotic. I like it.”_ _

__“Thank y…”_ _

__“Is that _what I’m thinking?”__ _

__Before Stephanie could react, Jean had already snatched her notebook always and was gaping at it like it was her first born. “That’s a _Captain America_ outfit! I _knew_ someday you’d appreciate the accuracy of that nickname! Grand!”_ _

__“It’s _not_ a Captain America costume!” denied Steph, leaning over Brenna to get it back. “Give it back here, Jean!”_ _

__“Hey, let me see it first!” replied the girl, backing away with the notebook. “This looks totally awesome. And credible, too. See? No ridiculous teeny-tiny skirts that one couldn’t possibly _sit on_ , not to mention fight crimes on!” She smiled broadly at Stephanie, pointing at the drawing. “Is this knee-length?”_ _

__“Supposed to be, yes,” conceded Steph, blushing furiously when she noticed the entire room now had their eyes on them. “Jean, give it ba…”_ _

__“It’s that a striped skirt?” asked Quinn, climbing on Philly’s armchair to peek over Jean’s shoulder, “You look super cute in those, Steph.”_ _

__“That’s a pretty high waist, tough.” remarked Philly, pushing Jean’s hands down so she could peek too. “I didn’t know you liked it.”_ _

__“I was going for a 40’s look,” admitted Stephanie, blushing even harder. “It was… it was a very patriotic time and I thought… that it would go with the theme…?”_ _

__“Makes perfect sense to me,” approved Nat, stealing the notebook from Jean. “Have you decided on the color scheme yet? Red, white and blue?”_ _

__“Is that a dress or a shirt-and-skirt?” inquired Quinn, taking a closer look._ _

__“Dress…” answered Stephanie, blinking at them puzzled. She stared at them some more, then added, a bit shyly. “Isn’t the star in the middle too much?”_ _

__“Are you _kidding_ me?” Jean rolled her eyes at her in utter disbelief. “Taking it off would completely kill the look!”_ _

__“What are you going to do about the sleeves, though?” interrupted Quinn, sounding very serious and business-like. “You’d want something that would grant support and not hurt your shoulders.”_ _

__“Hum, I was… I was thinking of keeping it simple. Like this,” she climbed in Philly’s armchair too, sitting beside Quinn and drew the straps, plain and large like a tank top’s. “I thought about making it backless and tie the straps around the neck, but I thought that’d be…”_ _

__“Uncomfortable, totally.” agreed her friend, nodding solemnly._ _

__“Is that a helmet?” inquired Tora, perching on the back of the armchair to take a look._ _

__“Tora! You’ll tip it over!” scolded Philly when the chair rocked, dropping her fork._ _

__“I thought the helmet was a nice touch,” commented Brenna, smiling down at the drawing, “it makes the outfit look more serious.”_ _

__“Why is there an ‘S’ in it?” asked Jean, wrinkling her nose. Stephanie stared at her as if she was crazy._ _

__“Because my name begins with an ‘S’?” she suggested, arching one eyebrow. Jean rolled her eyes._ _

__“Oh, _c’mon._ What kind of lame super-heroine goes by her birth name? Gimme here.” She snatched the pencil out of Steph’s hand and erased the S messily, drawing an A on its place. “A for America! Much better!”_ _

__“Jean, this is _not_ a Captain America costume. I don’t even know how you came up with that nickname!” chastised the girl, yanking the notebook away._ _

__“Are those boots or shoes? Haven’t decided?” asked Philly, tucking her hair behind her ear contemplatively. “I’d suggest boots if you are going for practicality. Although the shoes do go better with the outfit.”  
“Red for them _and_ the gloves,” opined Nat, grabbing Stephanie’s colored pencils and handing them over._ _

__“There should be wings on the helmet!” suggested Tora, out of nowhere, making everyone abruptly stop the babbling and stare at her. _“What?”_ she pouted, crossing her arms “I _like_ wings.” Stephanie giggled._ _

__“I’ll design _you_ a helmet with wings.” she promised, fondly._ _

___“Whaaaaaaaaat?_ No way, then I want a super heroine costume, too!” exclaimed Jean, indignant, putting her hands on her waist._ _

__“Hey, if Jean gets one, then I want one, too,” requested Quinn, making puppy eyes at Stephanie. _“Pretty_ please, Steph?”_ _

__“You’d suck at being a super-heroine, Quinn,” teased Nat, smirking._ _

__“Oh, yeah?” the girl raised her eyebrows at her ex-boyfriend. “Well, _I_ can shoot arrows. What would _your_ talent be, Mr. Sassy Pants?”_ _

__“Are you seriously asking me that?” Nat stared at her with all the irony he could gather into one single look. Even his body language was screaming “say what?” – crossed arms, eyebrows nearly disappearing in his messy red hair, tank top showing the subtle muscled arms. “We dated for _three years_. You _saw me_ kicking people’s asses a million times.”_ _

__“Philly would be _such_ a better super heroine.”_ _

__“Not really,” interrupted Philly, the epithet of calm, staring deadpan at the two of them. “If we were to be in a bizarre, alternative, comic book-like universe. I’m just saying. I would be the Super Villain.” She made a pause. “And I would win.”_ _

__There was a beat of silence. Then the six of them burst into laughing and couldn’t stop for the next five minutes. Steph leaned into Jean, grasping her notebook tightly and gasping for breath, warm, excited and full of hopes for the future._ _

__If she had only known._ _


	3. "Are You Happy Now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: see at the end of the chapter, as they are spoilerific. Includes forms of violence, so if you have any triggers, please check out to be safe!

Saturday was a very important day to Tora.

First, it was the day her father called, and sometimes visited, when he had time away from work long enough to establish a lengthy conversation. Tora moved about in the kitchen with the phone perched between her ear and shoulder, sharing histories from the past week, asking after her mom and matters at the embassy. 

It wasn’t long until Wegger asked about James.

“Does he show any improvement?” asked the man, gently. Tora put the mixing bowl down slowly, staring at the dough as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Cinnamon rolls were James’ favorite. Tora used to be terrible at making them. Now she had to make extra for her roommates that always drifted down attracted by the smell. She wished she was still terrible at it.  


“No,”  murmured the girl, putting the dough aside and sitting back at one of the kitchen chairs.  “He’s still ‘stable’… but he has not changed much ever since you last visited, father.” 

“I see.” 

There was a pause. She looked towards the stairs, checking to see if no one was listening. Stephanie, Quinn and Brenna left early on Saturdays, for art class, archery club and visiting her boyfriend respectively. Sometimes Brett came over instead, but today that wasn’t the case. Jean slept through the morning – it was impossible to wake her up before noon. But Philly was upstairs working in her computer, and Tora didn’t want to be overheard. Especially because, besides Nathan, Philly was the only one who could vaguely understand Norwegian. 

“Tora,”  called her father, bringing her attention back to the topic at hand.  “Are you still _sure_ you wish to stay there?” 

“Yes, father,”  sighed the girl, squaring her shoulders instinctively, even though Wegger couldn’t actually _see_ her.  “I may not be sure I am of any help, but I still do not want to be away from James.” She stopped, gulping, and added:  “I cannot give up yet.”

Her father sighed, too.  “Your mother misses you.” 

“I miss her, too,”  replied Tora.  “But I will not change my mind.” 

“I respect your decisions, Tora,”  said Wegger, worry beginning to leak into his voice,  “but we worry. You are far too young to be by yourself in that situation.” 

“I am not by myself, father. I have Stephanie and Phillipa, and Dr. Selving.” 

“Dr. Selving is a busy man, and even Phillipa is still young,”  argued the man, sternly, and Tora had no answer for that.  “Your mother is thinking of moving there.” 

_“What?”_ Tora got up automatically, franticly, muscles clenching as if preparing for confront.  “Father, that is not necessary.” 

“Is it not?”  challenged Wegger, strictly.

Tora didn’t answer. Instead, she looked at the dough again, her eyes and mind wandering – back to Washington D.C., back to a new city in a new country and to the kind boy who had tutored her when she’d had trouble with school. Longing washed over her, wrenching her heart out of her chest. For a moment, she simply _missed_ so much, the feeling overwhelming in itself, too strong to pinpoint what or whom exactly she was missing.

“Mother should stay with you. I am no child.”  answered Tora at last, petulant.

“You _are_ still a child,”  disagreed the man, tiredly.  “And your mother should be wherever it is that she wishes to be.”

“Then why did you let me come here in the first place?”  demanded the girl, impatient, feeling cornered.

“Because I understand it’s hard to move on, Tora,”  answered Wegger.  “You were only fourteen and James was your first boyfriend – I understand that. But it’s been over one year. Maybe you should start considering what you will do if he does not recover.”

“He _will_ recover.”

“You cannot know that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Tora…”

“I must go.”  she interrupted, anger rising in her throat.  “I will call you later, father. Give mother my love.” 

“Tora, I _have not…”_

She hung up in his face.

She knew she’d be in unspeakable trouble for that, but right then, Tora couldn’t care less. She leaned on the kitchen’s counter, her knuckles going white from holding on too tight, her arms shaking from anger. Why couldn’t Wegger _understand_ – Tora couldn’t simply leave. It wasn’t that easy. Her feelings weren’t that feeble. 

It wouldn’t be fair.

Drying her cheeks furiously, Tora straightened up again and abruptly decided to buy orange juice. It went well with cinnamon rolls.

After all, Saturday was the day she visited James.

Sometimes, Steph tagged along – but she had never met the boy before the accident, and was mostly trying to offer Tora emotional support. Other times, Dr. Selving, James’ adoptive father, would be visiting too, and the girl especially liked those visits because she liked him immensely.

There were also times when Darcy flew in to visit, in which case the whole thing was sure to turn into a continuous stream of laughter, silliness and junk food. Darcy had met James when both boys had joined the Tutoring Program at their school in Washington, James for the monetary help and Darcy for the extra credit. It had been surprising for everyone when they became best friends practically overnight, but when Tora had started being tutored by James it was old news. She had known Darcy for as long as she’d known James, and partially owned their relationship to his match-making.

Mostly, though, she came by herself.

The receptionist and most of the hospital staff already knew her, so Tora simply waved at the desk and headed for the elevator. Third floor, room 451. 

James was watching a documentary. He was snuggled in an armchair, a notebook open on his lap filled with his messy notes. His hair was still wet from the shower, falling in that wave-like way over his forehead. He seemed so interested in the TV his pencil was nearly falling off his fingers, his mouth slightly open. Tora coughed to get his attention.

James jumped, dropping the pencil and stared at Tora. He blushed, awkwardly looking down at his notebook before looking up again.

“Hi,” he greeted, putting it away.

“Hi,” answered Tora, walking towards him and pulling up a stool. “I brought something for you.”

“What’s it?” James leaned forward and breathed deeply. “Is that cinnamon?”

Tora smiled. “Cinnamon rolls. Your favorite.” She uncovered them. “They are probably not as good as your dad’s, but I used his recipe. I think you can probably eat them safely. And I brought orange juice, too.”

“I’ll get cups.”

They ate over small talk, breaking the roll into tiny pieces. James kept glancing up at Tora, his eyes wondering and a bit dazzled, constantly pushing his hair away from his eyes. 

“Why are you looking at me so, James?” asked Tora, smiling again and he blushed harder.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s… nothing.” He looked down, then back up hesitantly. “No, it’s just that… I was noticing, you are, you are seriously pretty. I mean.” He backed up, sitting straighter in his chair, his nervous tic becoming even more noticeable. “It’s not the _only_ thing I noticed, of course not, but…”

Tora interrupted him, leaning forward and landing a kiss straight on his mouth. James froze for a second, before slowly raising a hand and cupping the girl’s face, kissing back deeply and slowly.  
He didn’t need to be so careful. But Tora still loved that he was.

As they slowly parted from each other, James was smiling down at her as if she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

.  
.  
.

James nearly didn’t recognize the girl as he saw her through his bedroom window. But when she turned left to the bus stop he immediately remembered the thick braids, the broad shoulders and kind face. The boy leaned forward, pressing his hands against the glass just as a nurse entered his room.

“Hey,” he called, reading her name tag hurriedly. “Susan, do you know that girl who has just left my room? I think I just saw her across the street.”

Susan smiled, somewhat sadly, although James couldn’t pinpoint why immediately. Then she nodded. The boy went on, excitedly, even as he reached for his medication: “Who is she? Do I know her?”

.  
.  
.

Seeing Peggy delivering the final blow easily holding a gun bigger than herself never ceased to be awe-inducing. 

The Labyrinth dissolved around them, the surroundings gradually returning to its proper, real world appearance. Tora and Stephanie stepped from behind the benches.

“A most spectacular battle, Peggy!” cheered Tora, still holding on to her baseball bat. “As expected of such an honorable warrior!”

Peggy giggled, still getting used to Tora’s way of speaking and hopped down form the post light. “I’m not ‘an honorable warrior’, Tora,” she disagreed, changing back to comfortable jeans and t-shirt. “I’m just doing my job. Keep in mind that either of us could get seriously injured any time.”

“Aye, aye,” nodded the girl, eagerly.

Stephanie looked around, confused. “Didn’t it drop a Grief Seed?” she asked, crouching down to pick Fury up.

“That wasn’t a Witch – it was only a familiar. They don’t drop Grief Seeds.” explained Peggy, shrinking her Soul Gem to ring form.

“But are they as dangerous as Witches?”

The girl nodded. “If we let them run wild, they spread curses and grow stronger. As strong as the Witches that generated them. So we can’t just leave them alone.”

“It’s getting late, girls,” warned Fury. “We should get going.”

“Is there anyone at home?” asked Tora, looking at Steph. She smiled.

“Quinn and Jean went out. Brenna is sleeping at Brett’s… but I think Philly is in.” replied Stephanie, following Peggy out of the park, “And _you know…”_

“…how touchy she gets when she’s worried.” finished Tora, snickering. Stephanie began to laugh, too. Peggy blinked at them, confused.

“That’s kind of an inside joke,” explained Steph, embarrassed. “Quinn is always saying that Philly gets touchy when she’s worried… you know, touchy as in ‘short-tempered’?”

“But then one day Quinn took ages to arrive home,” proceeded the other girl, smiling largely. “It was storming like… what was the term Nathan used, Steph?”

“‘Storming like a bitch’” she quoted, laughing lowly.

“And Quinn’s cellphone had run out of batteries. We were sitting in the dark while Phillipa paced the living room, acting like a caged lion…” Tora laughed again, rolling her eyes, “when Quinn finally arrived, soaked like a drowned cat, and Philly dragged her upstairs before she could even open her mouth.”

“So now every time Philly gets worried Nat and Jean start to joke about how ‘touchy’ she gets when she’s worried.” concluded Steph, smiling a bit shyly. Tora begun to snicker again.

“Oh,” Peggy smiled neutrally. “They sound like great people.”

“You should come meet them soon, Peggy!” invited Tora, cheerfully. Stephanie couldn’t help but think the girl had gone a little stiff upon hearing it – but maybe it had been only her imagination.

They walked in silence for a while, still excited from all the Witch-Hunting today. Finally, Peggy slowed down to stand shoulder-by-shoulder with the two of them. “Have you girls given any thought to your wishes?”  
Tora sighed deeply. “I have thought a great deal about it. Steph?”

“There is a lot to think about.” she agreed.

And honestly, she was at a loss.

For one thing, Stephanie saw why this could be a bad idea – she already knew what Jean would say if she knew what they had been up to this past few days. In fact, dreading her surrogate family’s reaction to this entire Magical Girl deal was a pretty good clue that it was a bad idea. Not to mention her parents, who trusted her not to get into trouble away from their sight.

And it was dangerous. It was a serious deal. 

But…

Peggy was risking her life every single day. Many other Magical Girls were doing the same. _Someone_ had to do it. _Someone_ had to protect regular people. People like Jean. Like Brenna, Quinn and Philly. Even Nathan, who could be seriously scarier than a Witch. And her parents. _Someone_ had to do it, and Fury had picked _her._

Wasn’t that why her father had decided to enroll in the military? Because he felt a responsibility to protect civilians? 

There were girls laying down their lives. Did she have any right to do any less than them?

Peggy smiled at her, understanding. “There’s no need for your girls to hurry up. It’s difficult to make a decision this suddenly.”

Stephanie smiled back, gratefully. “What about you, Peggy? What did you wish for when you contracted?” she asked, friendly.

Her reaction was immediate and awkward – she opened her lips, halting slightly, eyes darting away. Steph blushed. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she added, hurriedly.

Peggy smiled awkwardly. “No, that’s okay. It’s not as if it is a secret.”

_Her mother was a judge. Her father was a lawyer. Peggy was insanely proud of them – they were honest, hardworking and highly intelligent. As a little girl, she liked to fall asleep to her father’s voice as he read his case appointments. She played trials with her dolls and teddy bears. Poor Wale Plushy got sentenced to fifteen life-sentences because its beady eyes freaked Peggy out. She grew up and dreamed of entering the Police Force._

_At first, she didn’t notice anything was wrong. There were whispers about her mother’s most recent trial, names murmured in dark corners and veiled news that deepened her parent’s scowls. But she didn’t notice.  
_

 _Then, one day, bullets started raining at the restaurant they were having lunch. The glass shattered. People begun to scream. Her stomach hurt like hell._

_At the hospital, they called her recovery a miracle. Fury watched over her from the window._

The girl breathed deeply, shaking the images off her eyelids. “I don’t regret contracting with Fury. I wasn’t ready to give up my life, yet.” She looked at them seriously. “But it’s different for you, girls. I want you to really find out something that’s worth wishing for. I didn’t have much choice on the matter.”

Steph was silent, thinking about this new information. 

“Peggy,” called Tora, sounding unusually irresolute. “Are there any rules as to what my wish must be?”

Peggy looked back over her shoulder, curiously. “What do you mean?”

“What I meant was…” the girl bit her lip, which was an odd gesture for Tora’s bold personality. “Can I make a wish on behalf of someone else?”

“You mean James?” asked Stephanie, promptly biting her own tongue for having said that out loud. Her friend shot her an indignant look.

“There’s nothing that dictates what your wish can or cannot be.” replied Fury, business-like. “Even if what you wish for benefits someone else. It wouldn’t be the first time it has happened.”

“But you have to be careful if you want to do that, Tora,” objected Peggy, frowning slightly. “It’s not a good idea to do something this big for someone if they didn’t ask you for it. You can’t really know what someone else wants. Assuming you do can make them very resentful of you.”

“I know James very well.” replied the girl, defensive. “And I’m not completely naïve.”

Peggy smiled soothingly, “I didn’t mean to imply anything, Tora. I just want you to think of all the aspects of it.”

Tora’s muscles softened again. Stephanie’s heart tightened for her friend – she hadn’t met James before the accident, and hadn’t known Tora either. The girl had moved to NYC following James when he transferred hospitals from Washington D.C. One of Philly’s superiors had referred their republic to Tora’s father, and thus when the two of them became friends, Tora had been dealing with James’ condition for months already. 

But even if Stephanie had never witnessed their relationship first-handedly, she had heard a number of stories, told in the wee hours of the night during movie marathons or midnight snacks. Tora’s face lit up when she talked of James, filled with such deep affection Steph’s heart always melted a little. She was crazy in love with him even now, more than a year after the boy virtually forgot they had ever known each other.

Stephanie could not begin to imagine what it would feel like caring so deeply for someone, loving them still, long after they had forgotten you were ever important. 

Tora straightened, lifting her chin up. That was probably what Steph most admired about her friend – she never stayed down. “I will,” she promised Peggy.

“Well, there’s no need for you to worry,” said the girl.

“I _do_ wish they would hurry,” disagreed Fury.

“Sir, hurrying girls up is not polite.”

The three of them laughed, relaxed and pleasantly tired as Peggy walked them home.

.  
.  
.

Steph threw herself at bed, refreshed by the bath and opened her notebook with her Magical Girl sketches. She’d been trying to come up with some ideas for the girl’s costumes – purple for Quinn, black for Nathan and red for Tora. Philly was proving to be more difficult. The dinner had inspired her somewhat, when everyone decided to come up with Superhero names for the heck of it.  
She let her pencil travel over her own costume, not adding pressure to it, just following the lines.

“It really is complicated, isn’t it?” she sighed, looking at Fury. The panther, comfortably nested in an extra pillow, raised his head.

“To me, it seems simple enough,” he replied, stretching. “But I can’t make suggestions – that’d be against the rules.”

“Hmmm.” Stephanie turned around to lie on her back, holding the drawings up at arms’ distance. “Can’t I just wish to be a Magical Girl?”

“Do you want to fight Witches that much?” questioned Fury, tilting his head to the side. Steph smiled, embarrassed.

“No, of course not. I don’t want to fight anybody. Or anything.” The girl put her notebook away, dropping an arm over her eyes. “How do I put it… I’ve always been sickly and had a weak body. I can’t do much of anything before I get too tired. My mom and dad work very hard, but we always struggled with money because of my medicine… and such… ” Steph sighed, turning towards Fury. “I’m always troubling Jean and everyone else. Even Tora worries about me. I want to _help_ people instead of only being a bother.” She chuckled, self-depreciatively, “But I don’t know if I’d be any good at being a Magical Girl.”

“Out of the three of you, you are the most talented,” answered the panther. He looked at Steph over crossed paws – even though his expression didn’t change at all, somehow he sounded much more serious. “In fact, I have never met anyone with as much potential as you. If you were to contract, I cannot begin to imagine how powerful you’d be.”

Stephanie stared at him, then began chuckling. “You are just flattering me.” she assumed, rolling her eyes, “Do you say that to all girls who are indecisive about contracting?”

“Most girls contract right away, actually,” murmured Fury, curling down on the pillow again; “But Peggy, Tora and you are older than most. That is a variable I hadn’t considered.” 

“‘A variable’?” repeated Steph, half-amused, half-suspiciously. That seemed such odd wording – “variable”, as in some kind of math problem or physics experiment. Besides… “We are older than most?” she added, sitting up and frowning. Peggy was seventeen. She and Tora were fifteen. How much younger than that could a girl be asked to risk her live and fight Witches? 

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. 

“Steph?” called Philly, talking lowly. “Are you still awake?”

“Philly?” the girl threw her legs to the side, searching for her slippers, “What is it?”

Philly opened the door, making sure she hadn’t woken Steph up. She was dressed in her pajamas, the most relaxed Stephanie ever saw her, with fuzzy socks, one of Quinn’s old baggy shirts that she’d bought at some sports event and running shorts that had seen better days.

To be honest, Stephanie had never seen Philly sleep in anything _but_ Quinn’s old clothing. She was unsure whose fault that was.

Philly sighed, annoyed, pursing her lips together. “Can you come help me out with your sister?”

Intrigued, Steph got up and followed Philly down into the living room – where Jean and Quinn were passed out in a deep state of drunkenness and awkward positions. She banged her forehead against the door’s frame. “Why can’t they pass out in their own beds.” She moaned. “I’m going to leave you there, Jean. I’ll leave you there and let you crawl upstairs in the morning, and then I’ll blast metal in your ears and watch you suffer.”

Philly smiled, amused. “Will you?”

Stephanie stared at her, then sighed. “No.” the girl picked her way around her sleeping friends. “I was wondering where Jean had went off to. But what were they even drinking for?”

Quinn, clad in low-waist jeans and a top, had passed out on the sofa, half her body falling off the edge, on top of her purse and face-down against the cushions. She was mumbling nonsensical swear words intercalated with nearly-yelled “DAMN HIS BUNS!” every now and then. Jean hadn’t managed to get so far – she had fallen on the floor, bended over the center table and was sluggishly grumbling in agreement to whatever Quinn was saying, echoing her screams with double the outrage.

“I think it had to do with Jean’s boss,” explained Philly, bending to take Quinn’s shoes off. “She came home today cursing him to the tenth generation. I couldn’t understand exactly what it was all about, but I think Quinn related.”

“DAMN HIS BUNS!” let out the girl, the sound louder as Philly lifted her head off the cushions.

“Yes, Quinn,” she patted her girlfriend’s back gently, “of course.”

 _“Phiiiiiiilly,”_ slurred Quinn, struggling to turn around and hug her waist. “Jean and I planned… evil things. For her boss. We will… we will…” she begun giggling, burying her face on Philly’s hip. “You’ll see!”

“That _pig!”_ sobbed Jean dramatically and Quinn raised an imaginary bottle to that. “Steph, Cap, _Cap…”_ she held on to Stephanie’s hand as she bent next to her, “he’s a mysosi- mymiso--- mysogeginic…”

“Misogynistic?”

“YES!” the girl pointed a finger to where she probably thought Steph’s face was. “Misogynistic _asshole!”_

“Yes, he is, Jean,” agreed Stephanie, warmly, passing her fingers through her hair. “Why don’t you go to sleep now? Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Sure… sleep…” Jean’s head came down again. “Sleeping is nice. You’re a good kid, Cap. But my stupid boss…” her talking dissolved into mumbling again, then slowly ceased once she passed out for good.  


Philly and Stephanie breathed out. The two drunken girls were sleeping heavily, oblivious to the world around them, make-up smudged and the loose muscles of someone too exhausted and too partied-out to care.

Philly begun tucking Quinn in, as concentrated as if performing a delicate surgery. Stephanie stopped to watch for a few moments, noticing the warm look on Philly’s face, her gentleness as she caressed one of Quinn’s cheeks. She placed her girlfriend’s head carefully on the cushions, smoothing her hair away from her face where it stuck to the lip-gloss. With soft hands, Philly pulled her jeans off and tucked her in on the sofa, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, fingers trailing on the girl’s hip. Quinn smiled back dazedly in her sleep. 

“I think we can leave them here,” she said, lowly, straightening up. “Well, Jean we obviously have to move.” She smiled at Steph, “And we should get her a pillow and a blanket, but otherwise, I think they’ll survive.”  


“We should also close the curtains,” added Stephanie, taking Jean’s earrings off. “They’ll wake up with a killer headache tomorrow.”

Philly nodded, walking around the table to help Stephanie lay Jean down. They left her at the floor, on the carpet, then went up to fetch a blanket and a pillow. Finally, Quinn and Jean were comfortably snoring away, or as comfortable as they’d get, in any case.

“Ah, honestly,” Philly shook her head, exasperated yet fondly. “I need a hot chocolate. How about you?”

“A chocolate sounds perfect.” smiled Steph, breathing a little heavily. 

Philly headed for the kitchen, opening cupboards and getting stuff out as Stephanie sat at the table. As the smell of hot cocoa filled the kitchen, Philly sat next to her, pushing the marshmallow bag towards her. 

They blew their cocoas, taking little sips and warming their fingers on the mugs. 

“Philly?” called Stephanie, examining the marshmallows floating on the dark liquid.

“Yes?” murmured Philly, blowing steadily to cool the chocolate.

“How did you and Quinn meet?”

Philly raised her eyes, taking a sip from the mug, looking surprised. “Didn’t Jean ever tell you that story? She was the reason we met.”

“She was?” Steph raised her eyebrows, rolling a marshmallow in her tongue. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Because you know her well,” she smiled and sat herself more comfortably. “Let’s see – do you know No Pants Day?”

“Sure, Jean does it every year,” agreed the girl, smiling fondly as she remembered the _last_ No Pants Day. Tora didn’t know what it was about, so Jean had spent _hours_ telling her funny stories that had happened to her in the subway. Her friend had sighed that she _wished_ she could take part in it, but was sure her father “would not approve of Norway’s ambassador’s daughter riding NYC’s public transportation system in her underwear.” They had ridden with Jean anyway, although keeping their pants on and hiding giggles behind newspapers. 

“Well, about four… three? Three and a half years ago… Jean dragged me to one of those.” explained Philly, shaking her head at the memory.

“How exactly did she…?”

“She guilt-tripped me into doing it.”

“But what did she…”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

Stephanie stared at Philly, then took a big gulp from her mug. Philly and Jean had known each other for seven years – Jean surely had some arsenal to use against Philly. But, yeah… better not to ask. “Okay, then. So Jean made you take off your pants.”

The woman smiled sideways, chuckling lowly. “Was that an innuendo?”

“Maybe,” replied Steph, impishly smiling into her now empty mug. 

“Well, but yes. Jean did make me take off my pants.” She got up to put the mugs in the sink. “We were waiting for the next train, when Quinn and a bunch of her friends came down the stairs, with bongos, a guitar and a hat for tips.” Philly smiled, subtly flushing and sitting down again. “And Quinn was singing.”

 _“Ahhh,”_ breathed the girl, promptly understanding the color in her friend’s cheek – Quinn was amazing in many things, but you could never really understand _how_ amazing until you saw her either shooting an arrow, proved her cooking, or heard her singing. “What was she singing?”

Philly rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over the table. _“‘My Shiny Teeth and Me’.”_ she answered, amused.

Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “From _‘Fairly Oddparents’?”_

“Yes.”

“So let me recap: you met Quinn while you were both in the subway with no pants on and she was singing songs from _‘Fairly Oddparents’?”_

“That’s a valid summary.”

“And then what happened?”

Philly pointed towards the living room. “Then Jean though it was an awesome idea altogether and begun singing _‘Steve, the Egg’.”_

“Oh, no,” Stephanie started to laugh, disbelieving, “she’s a terrible singer.”

“Believe me, I know.” The girl made a face and shook her head. ”But the two of them became instantaneous best friends. So we all got in the subway together – we were _supposed_ to simply go about with our own business as if we weren’t doing anything abnormal, but I am forced to recognize Quinn and Jean _were_ acting exactly as they always act. Which is, like a duo of seven-year-olds in Disneyland.”

Steph rested her head on her arms, engrossed in the story, warm and sleepy. Philly proceeded, staring off towards the living room with nostalgia.

“I was starting to get chilly and a tad bit bored, and Quinn noticed it – she dropped the conversation she’d been having, just left her friends talking amongst each other, even though she was obviously enjoying it, and started talking to me. She began asking about things I liked. She even listened through while I explained nearly half my final thesis.”

“Eventually, we figured out common interests – I think we were talking about _‘Back to the Future’?_ And Quinn started passing around thermos and muffins. She’d made extra, ‘just in case’. Well…” Philly shrugged, looking back at Stephanie with peaceful eyes and a dreamy smile. “I asked her out, but she had just broken up with Nathan and told me she’d better not…”

“But…?”

“But we agreed to stay friends. And then friends with benefits. And then friends with benefits that accompanied each other to family birthdays. At some point, we were dating in everything but name and – it was honestly ridiculous.” Philly smiled ironically at herself. “Nathan was the first one to snap. He just threw his hands up and asked us if he should buy a new tuxedo for the marriage. And the rest… is history.”

Stephanie yawned, sitting properly again and smiled a bit dreamily at her friend. “You two are very much in love, aren’t you, Philly?”

Philly’s eyes softened. She leaned in towards Steph and whispered with complicity: “You want to know a secret?”

“Yes?” the girl leaned in too, holding her breath as she put her lips to her ear.

“I might get a promotion really soon,” secreted Philly, her voice buzzing with enthusiasm. “If that happens, I’ll be fairly stable in terms of money. So I’m thinking of proposing to Quinn.”

Stephanie gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. _“You are?”_

Her friend smiled, flushed, looking much younger than usual. “Yes, I am. I know it sounds precipitated – but I know it’s her, Steph. Quinn is… she’s wonderfully complex. She’s a huge dork, and she gets into problems all the time and never worries enough about herself, but she’s the most compassionate person I ever met.” Philly’s eyes shone steadily. “I know it’s her.”

“Oh, Philly,” Stephanie got up and threw her arms around her friend. “I am so happy for you two. It’ll be wonderful.”

“Thank you, Cap,” the girl hugged Steph tightly, voice just slightly watery. “I appreciate it.” 

Steph smiled largely. “Well,” she held back another yawn. “I better get back to bed.”

“Yes, that is actually a really good idea.” Philly got up, stretching lazily and walked towards the living room to check on Quinn one last time. “Sweet dreams, Steph.”

“Sleep tight,” replied the girl, climbing the stairs. She got under the covers, eyelids already dropping heavily, and hazily wondered if someone would ever think of her the way Philly thought of Quinn…

.  
.  
.

Sometimes, it scared Toni how easy it had been to stop caring.

She hadn’t always been like this. There had been a time when doing this had been hard, even excruciating. Times when, whenever something went wrong, she asked herself, obsessively, what she had said or _hadn’t_ said, or could’ve said better. What she could have done. 

There had been times like that.

But it had been so easy letting go.

It had been so easy stopping giving a damn about everyone else. So easy to narrow her focuses and to close her heart and let people fall. There were times when that easiness scared her. It shouldn’t have been so easy becoming this cold, should it?

Unless she had always been this cold.

But now she didn’t care anymore.

Ahead of her, Peggy was walking by herself, a grey hoodie to keep the night chill away, eyes trained on her Soul Gem. Toni walked towards her, a spark of anger flaring inside her.

Peggy froze, withdrawing her Soul Gem and turning around.

Toni stepped in front of her, her boots making echoes on the empty street. The older girl didn’t say a world. 

“You’re still dragging those girls behind you like little ducklings?” she challenged, voice bored, but sharp.

“So what if I am?” challenged Peggy, right back. “In what way exactly does it matter to you?”

“Shouldn’t it matter to _you?”_ replied Toni, crossing her arms and staring down at her. “They are two regular, blissfully ignorant teenagers. And you want them to take on weapons and become soldiers.” she smiled sardonically. “It’s almost as if you don’t care if they die.”

The girl’s hostility sparkled up visibly, her body language going defensive and violent. “They have been chosen by Fury. I don’t do the recruiting – I make sure the recruits have any chance of surviving.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re no older than them. What does that say about you?”

“I don’t know,” drooled Toni, arching one eyebrow ironically. “Some of us _don’t have much choice,_ do we?”

She saw Peggy flinch, her fingers twitching as if wanting to bring out her Soul Gem. “You were eavesdropping?” she hissed, hostile.

“I don’t need to eavesdrop.” denied the girl, superior. “I use my eyes.”

“Do you?” Peggy crossed her arms, too, tilting her chin up. “If you are that perceptive, then can you tell me why you seem so much more interested in keeping Steph from making a contract?”

Toni gritted her teeth. _“Don’t…”_

“Don’t what?” cut the girl, defiantly. “Am I wrong? You’re acting as if you want to protect them, but you care nothing for Tora. Your problem is with Stephanie. Why is that, Stark?” she took one step closer. “Could it have anything to do with her potential?”

Toni’s nails dug into her arms as she stared daggers at Peggy. “You think I’m feeling _threatened_ by her? Steph couldn’t threaten a guinea pig.”

This time, Peggy was the one to smile, depreciatively. “Stephanie could be stronger than us both combined, and you know it.”

They stood in hostile silence for several frozen seconds, before Toni spoke again. “I don’t want to fight you, but…”

“Then you’d better stop meddling.” interrupted the girl, drily. “Whatever Stephanie wishes to do is her own decision.” She paused, then turned her back on Toni. “If you bother us again, I won’t stop at merely talking.”

With this, Peggy brought her Soul Gem out again and returned to her hunting. Toni, shaking slightly, left the place desperate to shoot something.

.  
.  
.

Stephanie had brought a book along, knowing sometimes Tora lost sense of time when she was with James, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

“Huh?” the girl raised her eyes, one hand resting on Fury’s back. “You are back already?”

Tora sighed, annoyed and shook her head. “He is… confused, today.”

Steph got up, holding Fury with one arm and put a hand over her friend’s shoulder. Tora was absolutely dreadful at hiding her emotions – the girl could read her face as plainly as an open book. And she knew what _those days_ did to Tora. Those days when James’ memory deteriorated and he couldn’t absorb new information for more than a few minutes each time. It was those days that killed her.  
That, and the _look_ on the boy’s face when he knew he should know who Tora was, but couldn’t remember.

“Let us go,” said Tora, picking her bag up and leaving the hospital. Stephanie hurried up to catch her.

They walked outside, Tora slightly ahead and Steph, getting the clue, kept her distance. She was worried about her friend. The girl had been dealing with James’ illness for nearly a year and a half now, but things seemed to be reaching a breaking point. She knew there were tensions between her and her father; James’ dad was losing confidence; Darcy’s visits were becoming more spaced now that he was busy with a new part-time job. And the hospital was considering sending the boy back home.

Tora would have to make some serious life changing decisions soon, and Steph could do very little about it.

She was so distracted staring at Tora’s back she nearly missed it.

“Tora!” hissed Stephanie, stopping dead on the pavement. Maybe sensing the dread in her voice, her friend turned around swiftly, defenses going up.

“What is it?” asked Tora, hurrying to her side and looking around warily.

“That.” replied Steph, pointing to a nearby wall. Nested on it, there was a black sphere that pulsated with dark energy, bending light around it.

 _“Get back!”_ warned Fury, jumping to the ground, his fur bristling. “That is a Grief Seed! It’s about to hatch!”

“You mean it will create a Labyrinth?” asked Tora, hurriedly. “Steph, do we have Peggy’s cellphone?”

“Peggy doesn’t have a cellphone,” replied Stephanie, biting her lips. “If we leave it here, it can be gone by the time we come back, can’t it?” 

“If you girls don’t back up, you’ll get caught in the Labyrinth,” insisted Fury, never looking away from the Grief Seed.

“We cannot allow a Witch to hatch in a hospital!” insisted Tora, looking briefly to the third floor. “Fury, we must do something!”

The panther’s fur rippled and he looked over his shoulder at them. “If you insist. Stephanie, go and find Peggy. If I stay behind with Tora, you can find us inside with my telepathy.” 

“Can you find…”

“No.” interrupted Stephanie, shaking her head at Tora. “You go get Peggy. _I’ll_ stay here and watch.”

Tora frowned, perplexed. “Why?”

“Because you run faster than I do.” replied Steph, taking a deep breath and crouching down to collect Fury. “You can get Peggy faster than me – in the Labyrinth I’ll just have to hide. We have better chances if you go.”

“But if the Witch finds you inside, you will be in greater danger than Tora!” disagreed Fury, squirming a bit in protest for being held.

“That won’t happen.” affirmed Stephanie, looking at her best friend. “Tora and Peggy will be back before then, won’t you?”

“Steph… I cannot… I cannot ask that…” stuttered Tora, her eyes darting between the girl and the Grief Seed.

“You’re not asking!” she insisted, stubbornly. “We are doing it together, right?” the girl hesitated still, her eye shining with indecision. _“Go!”_

Tora turned around, leaving her bag on the floor. “I will come back soon!” she cried out over her shoulder, darting around the corner. Stephanie let out a tense breath, bracing herself and fixing her eyes on the Grief Seed. It was beginning to heat up.

There was a flash of blinding light.

.  
.  
.

Objectively speaking, Toni knew this was a risky move. Staying away for any extended period of time was _always_ a risky move – but adding variables to the equation was even more so. She didn’t like it, not being able to predict movements and possible outcomes. But in any way she played it the situation became unpredictable. The best she could do was change the probabilities. 

Charlie was relatively easy to find. She was famous, if for no other reason than being terribly hated by most Magical Girls in the area. It was hard, she supposed, not to hate someone so talented – she collected more Grief Seeds than she could possibly need. But Charlie did nothing to soften that impression, by being annoyingly cocky and self-righteous.

Rumor had it she hadn’t always been like that. Some old, half-told history about a wish gone wrong – of a lover, a friend who had turned, and some sort of fight. Honestly, Toni didn’t bother gathering that bit of information. 

“Why do you want me to contact her?” asked Charlie, examining the paper Toni had given her. She had astonishing blue eyes, thin lips and an oval face with straight eyebrows. Her hair was too stylishly messy to be accidental. 

_“That_ is none of your business.” replied Toni, keeping one hand on the handle of a gun. “I was told you are good at locating people. I need to talk to her as soon as possible. Can you do it or not?”  
The other girl threw her hair back, clicking her tongue. “I can do it. What can you give me in exchange?”

Toni resisted the urge to roll her eyes impatiently. “I could offer you a Grief Seed – but you obviously have plenty of _those_. I could offer money, too, but it is my understanding you also have plenty of that.”

Charlie smiled, superior and cynic. “You are right on both accounts,” she confirmed, crossing her legs. “So, have you run out of ideas?”

Speechlessly, the brunette reached behind her back and drew a revolver, extending it with the handle towards the girl. Arching one eyebrow, she grabbed the gun and examined it with dexterous fingers. “This,” said Charlie, slowly and deliberately, “is no ordinary weapon.”

Toni shrugged. It was quite ordinary to her, after so many designs, so many killing machines created, perfected and built under her father’s attentive stare. Parting from it meant little to her. “Do we have a deal?”  
The other girl smiled, tucking the revolver in her Magical Girl outfit and offering her hand. “We most certainly do, my friend. What message do you wish me to pass on?”

There was a tattoo on the inside of her right wrist – it looked like a magnetic field. Toni pretended not to see it as she shook her hand.

.  
.  
.

Stephanie had hid behind a mountain of what _looked_ like a giant chocolate bar, ready to sprint at any time if needed, but staying low for the moment. Fury was crouching low next to her, his ears standing up, his tail moving threateningly. 

“Are you scared, Stephanie?” he inquired, lowly, nearly making the girl’s heart leap out of her throat.

“Yes,” she admitted, even lower. “But I’ll be okay. Tora will come back in time. I am sure of it.” The girl drew a deep breath to calm herself. She knew Tora – her friend would never let her get hurt. She’d never abandon her. She only had to wait. They’d arrive.

“If you make your wish now, I can transform you in here,” pointed out Fury, watching attentively. 

“I will do it if it’s an emergency,” replied the girl, trying to hide herself better.

Being in a Labyrinth never ceased being draining – her senses refused to accept it was happening. Concentrating on the surroundings was difficult. Her heart beat painfully in her chest and her palms were sweaty.  
It there was no other option, she’d make her wish.

But _did_ she want to do it? Hiding in the shadows now, Stephanie was frightened, but she had no doubts Tora would come back and Peggy would help them. She knew she wasn’t really alone. What had it been like for Peggy, though? Entering this kind of place every day knowing no one would be coming for you? No one to have your back?

And what would have happened if they hadn’t stumbled across the Grief Seed? James was in that hospital. James could have died. Everyone in the hospital had been at danger – children, elders, siblings, best friends, all lost because no one had been there to protect them.

“Fury,” whispered Steph, carefully. “What you said about me being a powerful Magical Girl…”

“I meant it,” answered the panther, promptly, “I am sure if you contracted you’d be even better than Peggy. Or Antonia Stark.”

She gulped dryly. “So I could help many people?”

“Yes. I am sure you would save many lives.” confirmed Fury, eagerly. Stephanie’s breath picked up.

“Then…”

_“Stephanie?”_

_“Peggy!”_ the girl nearly choked on the surprise. _“You are here?”_

 _“We came back as fast as we could,”_ said Tora, sounding notably relieved. “ _Are you both well?”_

_“We are okay,”_ reassured Fury, neutrally. _“The Witch doesn’t know we are here, yet. You girls should be discreet – don’t use any magic yet.”_

_“Copy that, sir. Don’t move from where you are, we will come find you.”_

_“We won’t.”_ answered Stephanie, feeling considerably calmer. She hesitated, before resting a hand on Fury’s neck and leaning down to whisper, “Is there a way I can talk to Peggy in particular?”

“I can link you both – no problem,” agreed Fury, not moving from where he stood or giving any indication he had done so. The girl waited for a few seconds, trying not to talk too much, before tentatively calling out in her mind:

_“Peggy?”_

_“Yes?”_ replied the girl, absently, probably concentrating on finding her way.

_“If we talk right now, would that distract you too much?”_

There was a long pause, long enough Steph thought she’d go without an answer. Finally, Peggy replied, carefully: _“No. It’s no problem. What is it?”_

 _“I have… I have been thinking about my wish,”_ said the girl, heart hammering again for completely different reasons.

 _“Have you thought of anything, yet?”_ asked Peggy, neutrally.

 _“Yes,”_ she agreed, sitting back on her heels. _“But the thing is, there’s more to my wish than what I’m actually wishing for.”_

Another pause. _“What do you mean?”_

_“You know I have… a lot of health conditions. I have been very sickly forever. I could do very little for anyone. Actually… I think I was always being a burden to everyone and giving people trouble. I wanted to help, but… it never worked out.”_

Peggy said nothing, so Stephanie stammered on before her courage failed her. _“But being a Magical Girl… that’s something not everyone can do, right? And Fury chose us. That has to mean I could be good at it. I could save people. And I could… I could help you.”_

Even through telepathy, she could hear Peggy taking a breath – maybe some physical habits were too ingrained to let go of. _“You shouldn’t do this because of me, Stephanie.”_

 _“It’s not only because of you,”_ insisted the girl, heartily. 

_“Well, I am the one who has been showing you around – so a lot of it is because of me.”_ replied Peggy, sounding tauter than usual. _“I don’t like it, you know?”_ she confessed, voice shaking the slightest, _“I don’t like being a Magical Girl. It was a fair exchange: I got my life back in exchange for saving everyone else’s. But I don’t like it.”_ There was a faint whisper in the back of her mind, as if Tora was trying to talk to her, but Stephanie ignored it for now. She wished very hard she could see Peggy’s face. _“I wanted to help people, too. But I wanted… I wanted to do a lot more than that. But I have responsibilities. I can’t just drop Witch Hunting. I can never stop doing it. It’s… it’s exhausting.”_

Stephanie held her breath, passing her arms around her ankles, working the courage to say what came to her mind. _“But you don’t have to do it alone anymore, Peggy.”_

 _“You… you really want to fight with me?”_ asked Peggy, tentatively. _“Would you?”_

 _“There’s no one I’d rather have by my back,”_ answered Steph, a silly grin spreading across her face.

Peggy began laughing – if the girl hadn’t known her, she’d say she was giggling. _“I am sorry for taking it out on you all of a sudden, Steph.”_

 _“It’s okay,”_ murmured the girl, still smiling at nowhere. _“Do you think I should…?”_

 _“No, you don’t need to do it, yet,” _she replied, light-hearted._ “You probably should try a familiar first before facing a Witch, and I’ll be there in no time. You know what else?” _ her voice dropped a few tones, becoming more secretive. Steph couldn’t help but notice her accent got thicker. _“We should celebrate it. We should go out dancing.”_

Stephanie felt her cheeks burn. _“I don’t actually… know how to dance,”_ she admitted, embarrassed.

_“No matter. I will teach you. Is that a date?”_

Steph bit her cheek to keep from asking “a date, date?” Instead, she simply said, _“It’s a date.”_

 _“Girls!”_ warned Fury, suddenly, barring his teeth. 

The Grief Seed burst into waves of milk and cream.

.  
.  
.

Peggy finally caught up to Stephanie, holding Tora’s hand as she ran to keep the girl from getting lost. 

Steph was crouching behind what looked like a huge cupcake. She smiled widely when they approached, making Peggy smile right back at her. The three of them sank to her knees, keeping out of sight.

“Are you well?” panted Tora, putting a hand on Steph’s shoulder. She nodded, even though her eyes never left Peggy’s. The girl felt ridiculously giddy, in a way she hadn’t felt ever since her parent’s death. 

“I’m sorry we took so long,” she told Stephanie, briefly forgetting about the Witch. Tora was eyeing them.

“Not at all,” replied the younger girl, shaking her head. Tora was _still_ eyeing them.

“So this is the Witch?” asked the girl, hurriedly, turning towards it.

Honestly, it looked harmless enough – just a cute little ragdoll far away in a high chair. Peggy smiled, getting up and ready to attack. “This’ll be over soon.”

She jumped over the cupcake, strolling towards the Witch, feeling her body light and her chest tight. Up until now she had always felt so _tired…_ but not anymore. Grinning, she pulled a shotgun out of thin air and held it like a baseball hat, and swung it against the leg’s chair, making it collapse. Tora’s and Steph’s eyes were on her.

Peggy hit the Witch again, sending her spiraling into the wall. The girls gasped, excited. Twirling around, she got hold of six or seven more shotguns, firing them swiftly against the ragdoll, blowing holes all over its body.

The ragdoll fell on the floor. Twirling one last shotgun around, Peggy shot it right in the head, ribbons sprouting from the wound and squeezing the Witch tightly. The girl pulled a ribbon from her collar, morphing it into her gigantic gun.

The explosion racked the Labyrinth, hitting its target with a deafening _boom._

Tora yelled something in Norwegian that sounded suspiciously like “skål!” as Stephanie got up, buzzing with excitement, waiting for the Labyrinth to fade.  
Then Peggy heard something behind her back.

Her heart beat madly in her throat, fluttering with white hot panic. She whirled around desperately, only to see a giant snake-clown-thing-like burst from the ragdoll’s mouth and shot straight towards her. A scream tried to claw itself out of her lungs – the girl threw herself back, madly fumbling for a gun…

_The Witch was right in her face._

.  
.  
.

.

.  
.  
.

Peggy gasped, jerking upright as her lungs worked frantically, clawing at the air in search of a weapon, something, _anything_. She had to move. She had to fight. She had to run! The Witch, TheWitch, _TheWitch…_

“Stop struggling!”

The girl froze. Her head was a blur of red, fear and heat. Trying as hard as she could to focus, her eyes searched for the voice’s source…

Antonia.

Antonia was holding her.

Antonia _had saved her._

.  
.  
.

Stephanie’s heart was still thundering in her ears as she stared at Antonia’s back with sheer panic still shining in her eyes. Tora had grabbed her arm and was digging her nails in painfully, probably bruising the pale skin. But right now, she couldn’t find the will to care.

Toni was crouching down next to them, having appeared _out of nowhere._ One of her knees hit the floor hard under Peggy’s weight, who was safely held in the Magical Girl’s lap, her hands clutching Toni’ shirt spasmodically as that eerie blue light shone from under it. 

Peggy’s eyes were huge, wide as dishes – her breathing was so fast she kept making wheezing noises as the air went in and out. It sounded as if she was having an asthma attack. Stephanie would know.  
Her muscles felt cold.

“Honestly,” muttered Antonia, sounding mighty pissed and making them all jump. Behind them, the Witch was howling, in search for its lost prey. “I turn my back for _five minutes.”_ Glaring at Peggy in a nearly murderous fashion, she put the girl down on the floor. Tora stumbled forward and clutched Peggy around the shoulders, supporting her.

Stephanie couldn’t move. She kept staring at Toni. The brunette raised her blue eyes at her and stared back, undecipherable. Then she drew a long breath and begun to straighten up.

“Don’t move.” she ordered, coldly. And then she was gone.

Steph’s head whipped around, searching. Antonia was facing the Witch – standing alone and calmly on one of the long table-like structures.

Tora and Peggy jerked around, trying to see it, too. The Witch howled again, lunging at Toni, who stared back at it unimpressed. 

The snake-clown closed its teeth over the spot where the girl was. Stephanie bit her tongue as hard as she could to keep from screaming. Toni re-appeared on a nearby table almost immediately – unscratched.

Looking progressively more confused, the Witch kept trying to eat Toni, who reappeared each time, unfazed. Stephanie inched forward, praying silently for this to be over, for this to end, please, now, let this end…

Explosions began to detonate all over the Witches’ body. New snakes kept trying to come out of its mouth, but each new head exploded again, until it all overlapped in one big last explosion that shattered the Witch for once.

Toni landed, safe and untouched.

The Labyrinth began to fade away. Tora was still clutching Peggy, whose face was a mask of shock and numbness. She barely seemed to be aware of what was happening around her. Stephanie realized they were all trembling.

A few steps away, Toni changed out of her Magical Girl outfit, crouching down to get something off the floor. Steph couldn’t take her eyes away from her – her mind was hardly processing what was happening anymore. She could only feel dread, frozen fear on her heart for Peggy, and dizzying relief for Antonia.

Toni looked disturbingly unaffected by the whole situation. Her posture remained the same, her expression betraying no internal turmoil, and her movements as smooth as ever. She was beginning to freak Stephanie out even more.

“Toni,” called the girl, her voice coming out weaker than she’d wished. 

The brunette turned around, walking steadily towards them. Stephanie accompanied her with her eyes, until she stopped in front of Peggy, towering over the three of them.

“Are you happy, now?” demanded Antonia, staring down at Peggy. The coldness in her voice startled Stephanie – it was nearly murderous.

Peggy didn’t react. 

“I _said,”_ stressed Toni, raising her hand, _“are you happy, now?”_

She tossed the Grief Seed right in front of the girl’s knees, making it pierce the cement sidewalk. Peggy, Tora and Steph jerked, abruptly shaken out of their numb estate. 

“Do you realize _what you could have done?”_ hissed Antonia, making Tora and Steph flinch again. Her dark eyes were thundering with tightly-restrained fury. “You almost got them _killed!”_ accused the girl, pointing at them, each word coming out as a razor blade. “What would have happened if you had died in there? They would have had to contract to stand _a chance_ at surviving! Two clueless, frightened rookies against that Witch? How do you think that would have ended?”

 _“Toni,”_ warned Stephanie, glancing at Peggy worriedly. The girl had raised her eyes when Toni had thrown the Grief Seed, but now, slowly, her shoulders were sagging, her gaze dropping again. “You don’t need to talk to her like that.”

“Yes – _I do.”_ replied Toni, sinking down on one knee in front of Peggy. Tora tensed up, ready for a fight, but the girl’s voice dropped to a nearly gentle tone, dark blue eyes going right through Peggy’s. “You do know what you almost did today, Carter. You might be a gullible fool, but I know you are not stupid. Is this what you really want for them? Do you still think you are doing them a favor?”

Peggy pulled in a breath, staring straight at the floor, fisting her hands, then let it go without using it, as if words had failed her. Tora and Peggy exchanged a look over her head, thrown off by Toni’s sudden softness, hearts still beating madly from the fright.

“Peggy…” whispered Steph, extending a hand towards the girl’s shoulder. She shied away without looking up. Hurt, she let her fingers drop. “Peggy, it wasn’t your fault. The Witch was too powerful. We’d never…”  
“You must know we do not blame you,” supported Tora, unsure, sending panicked looks at her friend. “It was…”

“My fault.”

They held their breaths, the low, pale sound of Peggy’s voice cutting through like a sharp knife. She drew a deep breath again – and this time kept going. “It was my fault. Antonia is right.” The girl looked up at Toni, who was still kneeling down in silence, “You’re right,” she repeated, getting her legs under her and standing up shakily. All three of them followed suit. 

“Peggy… you cannot be possibly saying…” murmured Tora, sending mistrustful glances at Antonia, who remained quiet. 

“She _is_ right, Tora.” insisted Peggy, holding one elbow too tightly, “It was my responsibility to protect you both and I… didn’t.” Barely managing to look at Stephanie, she proceeded: “I don’t want for anyone to ever have to do what I had to. Stephanie, I… I think… I think it’s for the best if you don’t contract.” 

There was a few seconds of complete stillness. Then, staring at her friend in disbelief, Stephanie stepped over between her and Toni, pushing the other girl back. “But I _told you…”_ she stammered, disbelieving. “I _told you_ that I would. We _had a deal.”_

“I know.” Peggy bit her lip, unsettled, “I _know_. But I… I don’t want you to contract… anymore.”

“That’s not true!” protested the girl, searching her eyes. “You’re just saying it to protect me. If… if I had contracted earlier, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Stephanie, _please_ don’t…”

“I could’ve helped you!” insisted the girl, her voice going shriller. “I wouldn’t… I would never just leave you like this, Peggy, how could you…”

“I’m _not…_ you’re getting this all wrong!” choked the other girl, finally making eye contact, frustration setting her lips in a tight line.

“How am I supposed to take this, then?” demanded Stephanie. “You can’t push me away now, Peggy, this is not… this is not how friends do things.”

“This isn’t about _friendship!”_ she exclaimed, voice rising, too. “You almost _died!”_

 _“You_ almost did, too!” screamed Steph, blood pudding in her ears. “That’s why you can’t…”

_“You were the reason I nearly died!”_

The words felt like a slap to the face. Stephanie stopped talking abruptly, staring at Peggy in hurt, shocked silence. 

The girl looked away again, stepping back. “Please, Stephanie…. Just go.” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“But…” stammered the girl, still watching Peggy with teary eyes, shaking her head. _“But…”_

“Steph,” interrupted Tora, putting a hand on her shoulder. Stephanie turned to stare at her – Tora shook her head, looking tired and worried, “Let us go home.”

She pursed her lips together, feeling as the tears tried to work their way out. Furious, she shot a look over her shoulder to where Toni was standing stoically, not saying a peep. For a moment, she was overthrown with the urge to slap her – _the both of them_ – but then it all became simply too much.

Grabbing her backpack from the floor, Stephanie turned and run away holding back sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: near-death experience, descriptions of severe memory loss and head trauma, victim-blaming and possible (as in, you can interpret it that way) suicidal thoughts
> 
> WHEW! Formatting this chapter was a NIGHTMARE. Never again. *brrr* if it's unclear, the font changes when the character is speaking Norwegian. I thought it was a simpler way to indicate the language without having to constantly point out which one they were using. I didn't know AO3 skin coding hated me so much.
> 
> Anyway, this is where the plot will begin deviating from the main series, and new twists will be added! The first of them, of course, being Peggy surviving. I didn't want to part with her character just yet, and I hope you liked it! The fic has been finished this week, so I can guarantee a regular posting schedule ;D
> 
> Please feel free to tell me any problem you see with the fic. I accept any criticism, typo warning, and, specially call-outs if I did anything offensive. Thank you very much, kudos to everyone, THANK GOD I AM DONE WITH THIS HTML FROM HELL.


	4. "I Trust You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: discussions of trauma post-near death experience, mental illness, character death, injury that involves a certain amount of blood

Tora ran up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. Three floors up weren’t too much, after all, and right now she really, _really_ needed to see James…

“Tora?”

Halting in the middle of the hallway, Tora turned around automatically. There, waiting by the elevators in a long-sleeved sweater, glasses and messy brown hair, was a very familiar face.

“Darcy?”

.  
.  
.

Tora’s family – herself, her mother Elin, her father Wegger, plus the pets – had moved from Oslo to Washington when she was twelve years old. That had meant leaving behind their extended family, all of Tora’s friends and the house she’d spent her entire childhood on. Tora had been sullen and bratty about it for as long as she could get away with it.

But being sullen and stubborn wasn’t a good strategy when your parents knew you so well.

She had met James on the first week of school. The principal had asked the boy to show Tora around. Quiet, studious, fourteen-year-old James Foster, brilliant, but slightly loony, with hidden depths the size of an entire galaxy – who had smiled and told her of his adoptive father, guided her to her locker, and silently walked out of her life again.

Fast-forward to the end of the school year, when her finals were approaching at fast pace and when her brain completely lost its grip on math. She’d sat at the lunch table on the verge of tears because she _couldn’t understand it_. James had approached, unsure, laid a hand on her shoulder and asked if she needed help with that.

Darcy had come along ten minutes later, dropping on the bench on front of the two and promptly stealing Tora’s fries as if they had been best friends forever. 

“You can’t teach her all of this during lunch break, Jamie,” remarked Darcy, glancing at the girl’s notebook. “Jesus, I hate math.”

“Well, ah,” James tucked his hair behind his ear, thinking. “If you could stay after classes, I could teach you the rest of it,” he proposed.

Tora blinked at him, then lowered her eyebrows in a serious gaze, “Would it not be a nuisance to you?”

”No, not at all,” promised the boy, smiling awkwardly. Weeks later Darcy would tell Tora, in secret, that James had been hovering around her _forever_ , trying to gather the courage to ask her out.

That first day, she’d invited the two of them back to her house, where Darcy had immediately bonded with their dog Petter, getting drool all over his jeans, and James had made the mistake of trying to pet Bite.

“I am sorry for her behavior,” apologized Tora, sheepishly, sending a death glare to their cat, a grey, fat, ugly thing that she had no idea whatsoever why they had adopted. “Bite has a terrible attitude. She hates everyone. I should have warned you.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” said James, grimacing as Elin bandaged the nasty claw marks in his hand, “I probably shouldn’t have tried to pet her so abruptly.”

He smiled at her and Tora smiled back, leaning on the doorway. Darcy had found an excuse to leave earlier right away, but it still took James a week before he finally invited her over to see a movie. They’d kissed in the first fifteen minutes of it, very, very lightly.

He didn’t need to be so careful. But Tora still loved that he was.

.  
.  
.

Tora wrapped her fingers around the Styrofoam cup, waiting for the chocolate to cool down. Darcy sat next to her on the bench, handing over a grilled cheese and blowing on his own chocolate. The girl took a careful sip.

“What have you been up to?” asked Darcy, nonchalantly and low not to bother the other relatives in the hospital’s cafeteria. 

“Nothing new,” replied Tora, trying to suppress the violent images flooding her mind once more – Peggy shivering, eyes huge and unseeing locked to the ground, Antonia tossing the Grief Seed on the concrete, Steph running away…

“Really?” the boy raised his eyebrows. He knew Tora too well to be lied to. 

“No,” she admitted, tiredly, “but I cannot truly explain the situation. A friend of mine… well, she did something reckless and now she is trying to push Stephanie away. And there’s another transfer student who has been… less than kind. It is a long story.”

“Huh.” Darcy gulped the steaming chocolate quickly. “Is this girl a friend of yours or of Steph’s?”

“She is my friend,” affirmed the girl, putting the cup down and taking bits off her sandwich, “but she and Stephanie are closer. She took it harder.”

“Can’t you girls just talk to this… what’s her name, again?”

“Peggy. Carter.”

“So can’t you just talk to this Peggy?” inquired the boy, friendly. “I mean, we did reckless things all the time, and James never minded us, did he?”

Tora smiled besides herself. “By ‘never minded us’, you mean having a nervous breakdown and trying to strangle you every time we got into trouble?”

They laughed in their cups, that secretive giggle they had shared many times after a successful endeavor that had once again given their parents precocious white hair. “What, you mean like that one time we tried bicycle stunts on the hill next to your home?”

“Or the time we broke into Celine’s garden to steal fruits just because she refused to share it with anyone,” added Tora, still giggling.

“And whenever we picked up fights with the seniors because they were being dicks?” recalled Darcy, making faces at the memory of his old classmates.

“Or when we tried to lure Bite into the kitchen sink?” suggested the girl, and they flinched painfully at the remembrance. Bite had been less than pleased, but that had been nothing next to Elin’s fury. 

“What _happened_ to that crazy old cat, anyway?” inquired the boy, almost fondly. Tora shrugged, distractedly.

“I do not know – she disappeared before I left for NY,” explained the blonde, shortly. 

She didn’t mention why exactly Bite had run away, even though it had been their own fault: after James’ accident, they had all but forgotten the cat even existed. Tora knew Bite was too smart to let herself starve to death. Of course she’d have left once the food ceased to be delivered. But the thought of the animal left with no food or water, especially when they _hadn’t_ forgotten about Petter, made the girl feel terribly guilty in a level she wasn’t sure was completely rational.

“Well,” Darcy smiled, mischievous, maybe sensing Tora didn’t really want to talk about Bite anymore “still, all you had to do was pout and James forgot all about it. Won’t that work for Steph?”

“I do not think so,” murmured Tora, sadly. “Peggy is rather pragmatic.”

“How did you meet her anyway?”

“She goes to our school.” explained the girl. “On a scholarship.”

“Well, great,” Darcy rolled her eyes, “so she’s one of you geniuses or something. Yeah, I can see you making _all sorts_ of reckless things. Like sniffing highlighters or ditching classes.”

Tora tossed a napkin at him. Darcy laughed.

“Kinda like you are doing today?” added the boy, lightly, taking another sip from his cup. Tora blushed slightly.

“In all truth… yes. I…” Tora looked towards the stairs, tapping her fingers on the table. “I needed to see him.”

Darcy nodded, silently. “How… how is he?” he asked, keeping his eyes down. “I mean… I know I just _saw_ him, but… how is he most of the time?”

The girl looked up, then down, then sat straighter, her hands curling into fists on her lap. It was different for Darcy. James _remembered_ him. They had been friends for longer than she and James had dated – therefore, when the boy’s memory from a year and a bit before the accident got wiped clean, Darcy remained, but Tora disappeared completely.

It was very different for Darcy, indeed.

_How was he?_

“He is different,” she whispered, as low as she could manage. “You know he is… sixteen now, but he cannot remember his life after he turned fourteen. It is not much, but I… I am _noticing_ it, Darcy. I am growing _older than him._ ” She took a deep breath, and buried her face in her hands. “He is not remembering anything, he is not _keeping_ anything, he has been like this for longer than we have dated, and there has been _no change…_ it has been over one year and he is not getting better. Darcy, I cannot…” she raised her head again, only now noticing she’d begun sobbing. “I cannot do this anymore.”

Silently, no questions asked, Darcy got up and circled the table, hugging Tora as tightly as he could. The girl buried her face in his stomach and being sobbing full-out, unable to control it. 

No one bothered them.

.  
.  
.

Jean was beginning to get really worried about Stephanie. 

Truth be told, her friend had been sick as often as she had been healthy for as long as they’d known each other, and by now Jean was used to Steph’s fever going high enough to declare medical emergency. Stephanie tripping on her feet, coughing her lungs out, going through whole boxes of tissues a day? That Jean was used to. Stephanie waking up out of nowhere with a bad throat and sore eyes and refusing to admit she was about to come down with a really bad bug? _That_ Jean was used to.

But _this?_ This wasn’t like her at all. 

“Are you _sure_ you don’t have anything, Cap?” insisted the girl, feeling her friend’s forehead one more time. “You’re not hot, but…”

“I just have a headache, Jean,” murmured Steph in a tiny voice, pulling the covers over her head again. “I will be fine if I sleep. I promise.”

“Steph, you don’t… you don’t look so good.” remarked Jean, worriedly. “Did something happen? Don’t you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, voice muffled, burying herself further. “Really, Jean, I’ll be fine. I’m not sick. You don’t need to hover.” 

“Well, all right,” conceded the girl, biting her lip. “But you’ll tell me if there’s anything bothering you, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” agreed Stephanie, in a weak voice. “I will just sleep in today, okay?”

“Sure…” said Jean, getting up reluctantly. “I’ll call your school and let them know, then.”

“Thank you,” murmured the girl as Jean closed the door behind her, uncertain. 

It _wasn’t_ like Steph. Usually, she’d insist and be stubborn about it, repeating that no, she wasn’t sick, and no, she didn’t have a fever, it was hot and that no, there was no reason at all why she should miss school. Even after spending nights in the hospital with a needle in her arm, Steph would come cheerfully greeting Jean and asking her mom if she really didn’t need any help for dinner. It took one hell of a sick day to put Stephanie down. 

If any other person had suggested it, Jean would’ve told them to suck it. 

But right now… she couldn’t shake off the feeling that her friend hadn’t a headache at all – and, moreover, that she had just been lied to. 

“Do you think something happened?” inquired Brenna, raising her eyes from her backpack as Jean got down the stairs. She leaned on the couch next to the girl and bit her lip.

“I think so, yeah,” she confirmed, sighing and sagging on the cushions. “I don’t know, I never saw her this way before. Do you think I should call aunt Sarah?”

“Well, do you think it’s serious?” replied Brenna, sitting down next to her. She took off her glasses, cleaning them on her blouse, thoughtful. “I mean, Stephanie would tell us if she got into any big trouble, wouldn’t she?”

“I _should_ think so, but…” Jean’s voice trailed off as new possibility presented itself. “Hey, could this have anything to do with that Peggy girl Steph won’t shut up about?”

“Peggy?” she put her glasses back on, surprised. “Why, do you think they had a fight?”

“That would explain why she won’t say anything, right?” risked Jean, hopeful. “I don’t know, I think it makes sense. It’s _Stephanie_. What kind of problem could she get into that she wouldn’t tell us about?”

“You have a point,” agreed Brenna, zipping her backpack. She sighed, shaking her hair away from her eyes. “That might have been it – let’s just give her some time, okay?”

“Yeah…” the girl looked over her shoulders to the stairs, nearly hoping to see Steph coming down. “Tora didn’t seem all that well either, did she?”

“I think things are going badly with James,” explained the younger girl, sadly. “Philly was saying the other day Tora’s father wants her to go back to Washington. I _would_ miss her, but… maybe it would be for the best.”

Jean agreed silently, shaking her head as she got up, too. Tora _could_ probably do with going back home. James didn’t show signs of improving and she was only fifteen years old – there would be plenty of time and plenty of people, but not if she couldn’t let go of him first.

She made Steph sandwiches before leaving, scribbling a note on the fridge. Just in case the girl got hungry. Hopefully.

.  
.  
.

Stephanie hated to worry Jean – not to mention everyone else – but today she simply couldn’t find the will to face her regular routine. Not today. Not after what almost happened – she couldn’t pretend she was okay, and so she decided not to.

Peggy had almost died. 

And the image wouldn’t _get out of her head._

The way her blood had run cold in her veins. Her vision tunneled and her head spun and the sound died. She wanted to scream, to scream until her throat bled, yell and tell Peggy to _run, get out of there, run, run, now!_ , but no sound would leave her lips. Her body wouldn’t move and even her eyelids wouldn’t close when Steph told them to. She was trapped in her own body, unable to do anything but watch-

\--watch as Peggy threw herself back, desperate, tripping on her own feet, clumsy and tiny and slow--

\--and the Witch descended upon her fast as lightning, a clown-like snake with a wild grin filled with sharp teeth-----

Steph buried her face on the pillow and held back a sob. Peggy wasn’t dead. Peggy _wasn’t_ dead. Toni had showed up, and Peggy was fine, Peggy was _just fine_ , Stephanie _knew_ it, she had _seen_ Peggy, alive and healthy with her own two eyes…

…and Peggy had backed away from her touch, refused to look at her face and screamed at Steph that it had been her fault.

But it hadn’t, had it?

The girl tossed the blankets, turning to the other side and hugging her pillow as tightly as she could to her chest, in hopes it would ease the terrible tightness in it. God, it hadn’t been her fault. It hadn’t! It hadn’t been _no one’s_ fault, wasn’t that right? What could she have done wrong? Distracted Peggy? Been too cheerful? 

Or was it because… she hadn’t contracted earlier?

Could Peggy be mad at her that Stephanie had done nothing when the Witch nearly killed her? That Stephanie had stalled and froze and done nothing about it? But hadn’t been Peggy herself who’d told her to wait?

_You were the reason I nearly died!_

She had been lying, right? Peggy was lying, _right?_

But then, didn’t Peggy want her to be a Magical Girl anymore? Was that it? Had the girl lied to shoo Stephanie away, to rid of her insistence? Was that just a way of letting her down?

And finally… If it wasn’t… if Peggy still _did_ want for Steph to contract… would she do it? Could she do it? After what had almost happened yesterday? And if she couldn’t do it after all… did it make her… a coward?

\--the deafening screech as the snake’s body lunged forward, too close, too fast, too sharp---

Stephanie curled tighter in on herself.

.  
.  
.

Tora was back home by lunch time. She eyed the refrigerator, spotted Jean’s message on her messy handwriting and looked up worriedly. Grabbing the sandwiches from the fridge, she climbed the stairs and knocked on her friend’s door carefully.

“Steph?” she called, softly.

“Tora?” replied the girl, emerging from under her blankets. She had a bad case of pillow hair and her face was puffy and pale, with dark circles under her eyes. “Did you come home earlier?”

“In a way,” she mumbled, kicking off her shoes and climbing on bed with the plate. “I ditched school.”

“Really?” Stephanie sat up straighter. “Where were you, then?”

Tora shifted uncomfortably, peeling the plastic out of the sandwiches and half-heartedly shoving one at her friend before answering. “James.”

“Oh,” she didn’t comment any further, choosing instead to focus on her sandwich. 

“Didn’t see him in the end, though,” continued the girl, looking down at her lap. “Darcy was visiting.”

 _“Oh,”_ Stephanie shifted, moving to sit shoulder-by-shoulder, and hugged her heels. “How was he?”

“Fine, I assume,” Tora took a deep breath and pointedly redirected the focus of the conversation, “what about you?”

Sagging as her body became soft with sadness again, Steph rested her head on Tora’s shoulder. Where to even begin?

“Do you think Peggy hates me now?” asked the girl, in a tiny voice, staring straight forward. 

“Peggy?” repeated Tora, sounding outraged. “Hating you? Where in all Heaven and Hell did you get such idea, Stephanie?”

She sighed, tired to her very bones. “She sounded like she hated me.” Replied Steph, mildly. “And she _told_ me not to contract, which is basically saying…” she shook her head. “I don’t know. That she doesn’t want me around?”

“She does not hate you.” affirmed Tora, resting her head on top of Stephanie’s. “She was frightened for you and in a terrible state of nerves – perhaps we should give her time.”

The girl nodded, faintly. Her chest felt heavy, and her head fuzzy. The few bites she had taken were making her stomach protest loudly. “I can’t stop _seeing_ it, you know,” she murmured, gripping her pants tightly. “My skin is _crawling_. I just keep remembering it… and if Toni hadn’t showed up… I…” 

Her voice cracked. She could not put it into words – as if saying it would put Peggy in danger again, change the outcome that had come about by a hair’s width, by a fraction of a second that had meant everyone got out alive. It was as if she was still in the Witch’s Labyrinth, watching, petrified, as life dissolved into blood all around her. There was nothing she could do, no way to stop what was happening, and she knew it.

Her throat felt even tighter, her eyes begun to sting and before Steph could catch her breath, she was crying again.

Tora passed her arm around Stephanie’s shoulder and brought her closer. “Shhh,” the girl whispered, holding on to her. “All will be well, my friend. All will be well…”

“I can’t even breath right when I think about it,” sobbed Steph, against Tora’s neck. “I can’t, Tora. I can’t do it. I can’t contract. Even though I said I would… _I can’t.”_

“I know,” soothed the girl, lowly, “I know. No one would scorn at you for it, Cap. It is fine.”

“But if I don’t…” she gulped forcefully, trying to control her tears. “Tora, what if I _don’t…_ and this happens again? What if Peggy keeps fighting on her own and next time there’s no one there to save her?”

Her friend halted, unsure how to rebound that question. It was a legitimate concern. But at the same time, Steph _couldn’t_ do it – not in the condition she was right now, and not if it was only for Peggy’s sake. And she _knew_ it, but… 

“Fury,” called Tora, suddenly noticing the animal’s presence on Steph’s nightstand. She raised her eyes, surprised, too, having almost forgotten he was there. “Has this ever happened before? Has Peggy ever…”

She trailed off, unwilling to say the words. Fury stretched, getting up from his cushion and jumping to the floor. “Peggy goes through tight spots frequently,” he admitted, sitting up very straight, “but usually she’s very careful about it and avoids the worst – she has never come that close.”

“And do you think it might happen again?” questioned the girl, edging forward. Steph bit her lips.

“Perhaps,” mused Fury, thoughtful. “There’s always danger involved in being a Magical Girl – Peggy knows that. Although,” he licked a paw, “I wonder if her emotional estate will affect her fighting skills.”

“But… but Toni,” breathed Stephanie, the idea suddenly lighting up in her mind. “Can’t Toni help her?”

“Toni and Peggy hate each other,” interjected Tora, unconvinced. 

“No, they don’t,” denied the girl, stubborn. “Toni was mad at Peggy because she was supporting our decision to contract. But – but we are not… contracting anymore. Right…?” she considered, unsure. Her friend didn’t answer. “So maybe…”

“I don’t know about that,” opined Fury. “It’s very hard for Magical Girls to cooperate. Peggy is really one of a kind – Antonia is… much more ruthless.”

“She saved Peggy’s life,” argued Stephanie, not so sure why.

“She did,” conceded Fury, calmly, “but we can’t be sure of her motives.” 

The girls felt silent again, each very tired and each nursing their own thoughts. The panther sighed heavily. “Well,” he said, getting up with a twitch of his tail, “once you girls won’t contract anymore, it’s better if I leave. Peggy will be in need of me.” Quietly, padded paws making no noise in the silent bedroom, he turned to head for the door and looked over his shoulder one last time, “I’m sorry our time together has ended in such a sour manner. If you change your mind about contracting – I’ll be waiting.”

And on that note, he exited Stephanie’s room, leaving the girls alone, still clutching to each other in utter silence. Tora looked out of the window, thinking harder than ever, a familiar feeling of absence making her muscles tingle. 

Meanwhile, Stephanie’s eyebrows wrinkled, as she reached a final decision in her mind. She was not going to sit at home, terrified and regretful, while Peggy and Toni run around facing reality-warping creatures stubbornly antagonizing each other. It was ridiculous and it had to _end._

The next day, she was going to find either Toni or Peggy or _both_ , if she could. And have _a talk_ with them. If she had to tie both of them down to a chair, Stephanie would do it.

However, finding Peggy proved to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. The girl hunted the school corridors for as long as she could, stalking Peggy’s classroom on the breaks and relentlessly looking for the girl during lunch. But there was no sign of Peggy anywhere, even though her classmates confirmed she came to class and that they’d told her Steph had been looking for her. 

She was beginning to get deeply annoyed, not to mention confused and baffled, and she still hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Peggy’s shirt. Refusing to give up, Steph waited until the end of the day, stubbornly, right in front of the girl’s classroom. Unless Peggy decided to climb down the windows, she’d have to come out and face her.

When, finally, she left her class, Peggy had her head down and walked briskly down the corridor without so much as glancing at Stephanie – who stood there with her mouth falling open for entirely too much time, before waking up and hurrying after her.

“Peggy.” she called, firm and brand. _“Peggy!”_ she repeated, louder, darting after the girl who had picked up her pace. “Wait!”

“Stephanie, I can’t talk right now,” replied the girl, tensely, without stopping.

“You are _avoiding_ me?” she demanded, fussing up with anger and disbelief. _“Why?”_

“I’m not avoiding you,” insisted Peggy, looking straight ahead. “I’m busy and I can’t talk right now.”

“That’s a load of bull.” replied Steph, forcefully. The girl finally stopped, turned on her heels and stared at her.

“Well, then,” she said, dryly, “you don’t have to believe me, if you don’t want to. But I’m busy. So if you’ll _excuse me.”_

Turning around swiftly, Peggy got into the elevator, leaving Stephanie alone in the slowly emptying corridor. 

What had just _happened?_

Had Peggy straight-out refused to talk to her? Was that really it? Steph felt torn between tears of anger and tears of heartbreak. She stood still for several minutes, just breathing in and out and considering making a run for the stairs and keep insisting. In the end, though, good sense won over – she was too worked up to have a sensible conversation right now.

As she stood there, trying to muster up the will to go home, Steph heard a voice flare up in the silent corridor.

 _“…not_ the deal we had, Obadiah.”

Steph’s ears were up and attentive before her brain had even processed the words. She recognized Toni’s voice immediately – angry, impatient and scornful – and it was coming from the corridor right to her left, where the infirmary was located. That made sense: Toni had to take her medicine every day. But there was no one working in the school named Obadiah. So who was she talking to?

Curious, she approached the source of the sound, feet nearly moving by themselves. The door to the infirmary was slightly ajar, revealing Toni leaning on the stretcher with her arms crossed and wearing the most unimpressed expression Steph had ever seen in a human being’s face. She was wearing combat boots, a spike belt and a _Black Sabbath_ t-shirt under her school blouse, which made Steph roll her eyes, half-amused. There was a man standing in front of her, with his back turned at Stephanie. Although he wasn’t _that_ much taller than Toni, who was already short, he towered over her in a manner that made Stephanie feel uncomfortable.

And right now, the look Toni was giving him could be enough to freeze melting glaciers all over again.

“Toni, Toni, Toni” begun the man, in a friendly voice that sounded especially paternalizing, “I understand this was not the way we arranged things before, but what you have to see is that things have changed.”

“Have they, now? _Really?”_ drooled the girl, absolutely deadpan and bored, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. “And why’s that?”

“Why, you must be keeping an eye on the stock prices, Toni,” affirmed the stranger, slightly berating, as if talking to a small, naughty kid. “The military contracts alone haven’t been holding up as well ever since Howard died. You know that he was the innovative genius, and the other investments…”

“Oh, _is that_ why?” interrupted the girl, in an absolutely fake surprised tone, widening her eyes theatrically. “The company is flunking because my father is not making pretty new trinkets anymore? Well, that’s funny, Obadiah. That’s real funny. _Hilarious_ even, because, you see,” she uncrossed her arms, put her weight on the stretcher and leaned forward, injecting such viciousness in her words that Steph flinched all the way from where she stood. _“I’ve_ been hearing a different story.”

The silence that fell between them was as heavy as a ton of bricks, filled with unsaid accusations and muttered threats. Stephanie held her breath, fearing that the smallest noise would disturb the air and make the tension explode. 

“You should be more careful with your sources, Toni.” warned the man – Obadiah? – lowering his voice so that she had to step closer in order to hear it. “They don’t seem to be very reliable ones.”

She gave him a large, derisive smile, not unlike a large feline about to attack its prey. “I am used to unreliable sources.” whispered Toni, almost sweetly.

Obadiah shifted, allowing Steph to see bits of his face – a grey beard and small eyes and maybe sixty-something years. He didn’t look very pleased. Didn’t _sound_ very pleased, either. “I don’t know where you’ve been hearing what, Toni, but I shouldn’t think that’d keep you from helping saving the company your father built from the ground.”

Judging by Toni’s demeanor the entire conversation, Steph had pretty much already concluded the girl couldn’t care less about this Obadiah fellow, sparing him just about as much credit as she’d give to a hallucinating lunatic. Therefore, when she saw the way these words _affect_ the girl – the way she flinched and averted her eyes and held on tighter to the edge of the stretcher – Stephanie felt a sudden flare of hot anger. 

She didn’t know who he was, and she didn’t know why his words hurt Toni – but she wanted to punch him in the guts nevertheless.

“So you think _I_ can save the company?” asked the girl, quickly getting her feet under her and adding a healthy dose of irony just to be sure. _“Me?_ Save the company single-handedly? Are you telling me that a group of the most skilled, most well-paid engineers in this country – and a number of others if I might add! – needs a sixteen year old _teen_ who just got out of the hospital to do _their jobs?”_ her eyebrows shot up her forehead ironically. “Is that what you are saying? ‘Cause that… that is just pathetic.”

 _Ouch,_ thought Stephanie, feeling somewhat smug.

“So now you refer to yourself as a sixteen year old teen?” replied Obadiah, challenging. “I remember what you were like before the accident Toni – you could barely _wait_ to get a spot on the company. I saw it, I supported you! I told Howard: let the girl go to MIT if that’s what she wants, I told him you were _ready_ , and you _are_. So why out of a sudden you are so reluctant in doing what you’ve always wanted to do?” there was some sort of undertone to his voice that Steph couldn’t neither put a name on, nor pinpoint why it was bothering her. She could tell that it troubled Toni, by the sour line of her lips and sharp glint in her eyes, but she couldn’t guess _why ._ “So what happened?” he shrugged, delivering helplessness and a fierce desire of understanding. “What _changed?”_

Toni’s chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. The hostility bled out of her stance, the harsh irony and cold anger gradually disappearing, leaving behind sadness and a devastating, bone-deep awareness. It made Toni look ten times older than she truly was, wiser, but more tired, and carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“I died, Obadiah.” she answered, so softly and level-headed Steph almost failed to recognize her voice. Her blue eyes seemed even darker as she stared up at the man, a mixture of pity, disregard and fatigue. “I’m sure you remember what great disappointment it was when I didn’t even manage to do that right.”

And, just like that, Stephanie simply _knew_ there was more to that story then Toni was letting on. She could feel it in her very skin, surely and true, every scarce piece of information pointing to the same direction, to shadowy corners and well-kept secrets. 

There was a reason why Toni had “changed”, Steph could tell – something the girl wouldn’t share with Obadiah – and it hadn’t been the time she’d spent clinically dead.

The man fidgeted again, obviously throwing off by her sudden change of tone. “Toni… my girl…”

“Don’t call me that.” she interrupted him, dry and dangerously pissed, staring up at him with the sharpest glare Steph had ever seen on her face. She recoiled again, standing defensively and letting all of her disdain show plainly.

As the man kept talking, the girl saw Toni roll her eyes dramatically, much obviously completely turning off the sound of his voice. Her eyes wandered aimlessly about, bored…

…and found hers.

Stephanie froze, her cheeks burning bright red as Toni’s eyes widened and her lips tinned. The girl got ready for a stormy reaction, for slammed doors and demands of knowing exactly what the hell did she think she was doing. But Toni seemed to be as paralyzed as Stephanie herself, staring with slightly parted lips like a rabbit caught in a flashlight. By now she was ignoring the man so blatantly Steph couldn’t understand how he hadn’t noticed yet. She opened her mouth, unsure what to say, considering just turning around and leaving, or maybe apologizing, when the other girl brusquely averted her eyes again.

“That’s enough, thank you.” interrupted Toni, making the man’s speech halt messily. She leaned across the stretcher, grabbed her backpack and swung it over one shoulder. “I am not going back to the manor and I’m not designing anything for Stark Industries, Obadiah.” she declared, sounding much older than her years, and absolutely final. “We had a deal. _Stick to it.”_

Storming out of the infirmary, Toni walked right up to Stephanie, who clumsily tried to offer an apology, feeling her face get hotter and hotter. But the girl ignored it, walking with purpose and grabbing her hand as she passed by, tugging hard to make her move. “Walk,” she told Stephanie, bossily, tugging again. “Don’t look at him. Just keep walking. Hurry up.”

“Toni!” called the stranger behind them, beginning to sound really angry, now. “We haven’t finished this conversation! Come back here! _Antonia!”_

 _“Yes, we have!”_ snapped the brunette over her shoulder, fingers digging on Steph’s palm as they marched down the stairs at a fast pace, Toni leading the way and nearly pulling her arm out of her shoulder. She got dragged all the way to the ground floor and then into the main corridor towards the exit before her lungs begun to fail her. Steph tried to tug back at Toni’s hand, but the older girl seemed oblivious to everything right now, stomping with barely contained anger ahead.

“Toni,” called the blonde, out of breath, struggling to keep up. _“Toni!_ Toni, slow down, I can’t keep up with you!”

The other girl stopped abruptly at the school gates, her shoulders shaking with some contained emotion. She took several shallow breaths before looking back at Stephanie – then down at their hands, that were still grasped. As if the contact was burning her, she dropped it. Stephanie caressed her shoulder slowly.

“Sorry,” mumbled Toni, pushing her bag further up her shoulder. “I got sidetracked.”

“That’s okay,” murmured Steph, softly. Toni was averting her eyes, something the girl had never seen her do before. She looked upset.

Now that Steph was actually thinking about the contents of the conversation – it struck her how odd it had all sounded. They had a “deal”? Stark Industries? “The accident”? _What_ accident? Hadn’t Toni been at the hospital due to a heart condition? And – mostly important of all – how the hell did that man get such a strong reaction from a girl who barely flinched at the face of a howling, furious Witch?

Unsure, trying to sound as non-invasive as possible, Stephanie took a deep breath and whispered. “I’m sorry. That I… eavesdropped.” 

Toni raised her eyes again, looking her in the face. Her eyes were troubled and hissy like an angry cat, but aside from that, you could hardly tell that something had just happened. It was equal parts heartbreaking and scary. Shrugging, breathing normally again, Toni accepted the apology. “No matter,” she said, nonchalant. “I’d have done the same if I was you.”

“You would?” asked Steph, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, she thought Toni was going to smile, but she just shrugged again.

“Yeah,” confirmed the girl, unbothered.

“Really.” some part of her felt the inexplicable urge to giggle; the other part was trying to decide if she should take offense on it. Finally, she decided to let it go. “Toni?”

“Hum?” murmured Toni, passing the other strip of her bag through her arm. The gesture sidetracked Stephanie for a moment – she had never seen Toni carry her bag properly. Regaining her trail of thought, Stephanie used her most gentle, unobtrusive voice, and asked softly:

“Who was he?”

Toni looked down at her, and for once, incredibly enough, there was little to no animosity in her features. It was hard to decipher _what_ was in it, to be honest, but it made Steph’s heart beat faster for some unknown reason. Sighing deeply, as if letting go of the weight of the world, the brunette finally answered after a long silence.

“That’s Obadiah. He’s my legal guardian.” There was the briefest of pauses. “He’s a dick.”

Stephanie couldn’t help it this time – she begun giggling. The corners of Toni’s mouth twitched slightly. “I figured that much,” confessed the girl, still smiling, “but why?”

Toni made a non-committal noise, then begun walking towards the street, as if considering the question. Steph followed her, falling in a slow step besides the girl. “Why he is a dick?” repeated the brunette, after thinking for a moment. “Hell, there’s a lot of reasons why he’s a dick. But if you are asking me, personally,” she made a sour face, “he’s been putting up this act of being my father figure ever since I was four years old. But he doesn’t actually give a shit about me – he’s only interested in the money I can make.” She gave Stephanie an impatient look, rolling her eyes. “I learned to recognize when I was being humored and lied to by the time I was five. You’d think the man would _take a hint_. It’s disgusting.”

And like this, just as she answered one question, Toni had raised about ten more. Biting her lips, Stephanie wondered how far she could go before she went from being curious to being simply nosy. But that conversation had made so little sense…

“And why is he your legal guardian?” ventured the girl, speaking even softer. Now she definitely saw Toni’s neck tense, her body going stiff.

“Friend of my dad’s,” she replied, shortly. “Closest thing he had to a friend, anyway. Business partner. I don’t know. I figure it was pretty hard to find anyone who would take me in after the crash.”

“The crash.” repeated Stephanie, unsure.

“Car crash,” specified the girl, not looking at her. “Last year. My parents died – I got stuck in the ICU for months. And in a private room for the rest of it.” 

Steph held her breath, staring at Toni in cold shock. Had she just heard it right? Had Toni really just told her in that same even, neutral voice, that her parents were dead and that she’d been hospitalized for more than _a year?_

But Toni was fifteen, sixteen at most, right? So that meant that had happened when she was, maybe, fourteen years old?

“I am…” she gulped, feeling genuinely horrible. “I’m terribly sorry, Toni.”

The girl absently tapped her fingers against her chest, right between her breasts – it made a faint _toc-toc_ sound. “Yeah, well,” she murmured, uncomfortable. “Never had the best of relationships with my old man. He was sort of a drunk. And a workaholic. Whatever. It’s been a long time.” 

Stephanie nodded, letting the matter drop for now. It was obvious that Toni didn’t feel comfortable talking about it. But her heart still hurt somewhat in her chest – Toni had lost both parents in a car crash. She was an orphan. Had spent months in a hospital. Her legal tutor was a condescending jerk. And she had still showed up to save the three of them, relentlessly trying to keep Stephanie from contracting. 

“…Toni?” called Steph again, embarrassed.

“Shoot it,” replied the girl, awkwardly. It sounded as if she was about to add something else to the end of the phrase and had cut herself off .

“I wanted to thank you,” she said, gently. “For saving our lives.”

Toni looked down at her with a taunt expression, before relaxing again. “You are welcome,” she replied, simply. “I take it that you are not going to contract anymore?”

Stephanie bit her lips, feeling her heart flutter again –

\--- Tora right beside her and Fury standing close, but Peggy is far away, too far away, panic written in her every movement, what if she dies, _whatifshedies_ \--- 

She shook her head, hard. “No,” answered Steph, voice trembling, “no, I won’t.”

“That’s good,” approved Toni, staring off in the distance. “I’m glad I won’t be seeing your dead body anytime soon.”

Stephanie eyed her, unsure, noticing the colder tone of voice and her closed off expression. “Did you ever saw it happen, Toni?”

The girl raised one eyebrow at her. “Saw what happen?”

“A Magical Girl die?”

Toni pressed her lips together, a tense silence feeling the spaces between them. She stared ahead for a few minutes, lightly picking up the pace to stay ahead. Her face was grave and dark. “Yes.”

Stephanie watched her very intently. “Whom?”

“I can’t really tell you,” answered the girl, absently-minded. “Gave up trying to keep track.”

She stared down, feeling her heart grow even heavier in her chest. “That many…?”

Toni nodded, stopping to turn and face Stephanie. “Did you never wonder why we are called Magical _Girls?”_ she inquired, serious. “If I was thirty or something, I wouldn’t appreciate being called a _Girl.”_ She paused. “But none of us ever lives long enough to worry about it.”

“That’s… that’s horrible,” managed Steph, with wild eyes and cold water in her veins. “That’s just… it’s too horrible…”

“It’s the truth,” disagreed Toni, plainly. “I won’t try to sweeten things for you, Stephanie. Being a Magical Girl means we don’t get to live long. But that is a price both Peggy and I paid willingly, for something we valued more than our lives.” She stared in the distance, lost in some old memory. “But you are different. There’s too many people who love you for you to throw your life away this way. That’s why…” she looked at her again, “That’s why I’m glad I could at least save you.”

Stephanie felt tears beginning to prickle her eyes again – she drew several shaky breaths to keep them from escaping. This was all simply too much. Peggy had nearly died, and she couldn’t accept that it had been meaningless – that she’d die anytime soon, anyway. That couldn’t be it. That couldn’t be truth for all Magical Girls. 

“Thank you for helping me, Toni,” she finally whispered, barely managing it. “I really do mean it. I won’t forget what you did.”

Toni nodded, reaching for her pocket and taking out a cellphone – latest model by the looks of it – before reaching out her hand to Stephanie. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Your _phone,”_ repeated the girl, impatient. “C’mom, give it here.”

Blinking, Stephanie fished out her cell and handed it over. Toni examined it, scoffed derogatorily, and begun tapping away with dexterous fingers. “Okay,” she said, closing it and giving it back. “I got your number and I gave you mine. If _anything_ happens” the girl stared at Steph hard enough to go through rock, “and I mean anything _at all_ , but _especially_ Witch-related… call me. There’s about five different numbers in there that’ll reach me. I _will_ pick up. Understood?”

Steph nodded, slowly, trying to find a way to work her request in the conversation – she didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but worry was eating at her insides even now…

“And stop worrying,” added Toni, sternly, giving her a hard look. “I won’t let Carter get killed.”

“You… you won’t?” babbled Stephanie, sincerely awestruck. 

“Always the tone of surprise,” muttered the girl, barely audible. She had her back to the sun, which made her hair look even darker by contrast, her eyes deep and older and almost mysterious as she stared intensely at Steph. “I will not let Carter die, Stephanie.” repeated Toni, her voice solemn as if giving an oath. “I promise you. And I will not let you get hurt. So don’t contract and don’t freak out. Just… just trust me.”

Feeling as if a huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders, and feeling awful for it, Stephanie nodded. The way Toni talked made her feel on edge, as if there was something important she kept missing. At the same time…

“I trust you,” she answered honestly, clutching her cellphone tightly in her hand.

A shadow passed over Toni’s face – for a second, Stephanie, thought she was going to say something – but it disappeared almost too fast right afterwards. She tugged at her bag’s straps and tapped her chest again – _toc-toc._

“I have to go now,” said Toni, finally, walking past Steph towards the direction they had come from, “try not to get into trouble.” she added, before walking away briskly.

It took Stephanie several minutes to stop staring at the point where Toni had disappeared. And then other long moments to realize Toni had dropped her off at her own street – which was odd, because… Steph couldn’t remember telling the girl where she lived.

.  
.  
.

There were a few things that Tora treasured the most about James and their relationship: the way he had begun resting his head on her shoulder when Tora soon grew taller than him. The way he smiled, embarrassed, and chuckled a bit unbelieving when she joked with him. His passion and patience. The afternoons they spent by themselves, a patch of skin always touching – an elbow or intertwined fingers, a knee pressed against his leg – just talking and talking and never running out of subjects.

This seemed to be one of these afternoons. James was sitting next to her on the bed, his shoulder next to her arm as he leaned forward, watching the view from his window peacefully and hearing Tora tell stories of her family’s hunting trips.

“Of course, I was never allowed to accompany them,” explained the girl, cheerfully. “The hunting laws are very strict, and it does not allow minors to hunt. But I had many cousins, aunts and uncles, and they enjoyed travelling together. You see, when my father was to leave in a hunting trip…” and she kept on, retelling memories close to her heart.

Every new hunting season, Elin would help Wegger make his bag, patiently smoothing warm shirts and going through his supplies to make sure her husband wouldn’t be in need of anything. Tora run around the house after them, glued to their ankles, talking non-stop and getting in everybody’s way. Her parents never complained, though – Wegger taught her about plants, trails, about the proper making of a good trap and how to recognize a bird’s calls as the little girl helped him sort through his munitions. When Tora was really young, the man used to sit her in his knees and told exciting tales of long walks through snow and close encounters with wild bears, as she stared up in utter bewilderment. 

Elin was a bit more withdrawn about such matters. She let Tora help too, packing sandwiches and cans into neat cardboxes, and reminded her that not all was glamour and adventure – that there were cold socks and back aches and fur that got sticky with blood. But even those less noble aspects of hunting lured the little girl. She longed for the day her older relatives would let her tag along.

“When you turn fourteen, we can take you.” guaranteed her aunt, fondly, accepting a bag Tora was offering and tying it with the rest of the luggage, “I’m sure your father will want to take you on a special first hunting trip. You could go with us, if you want to. But maybe you could go just the two of you.”

Tora had run over to her dad, bursting with excitement, to plead that he promised, that he absolutely swore they would go on a trip – just the two of them – once she was old enough. She run so fast she fell face-first in the ground. Elin had to keep her from getting run over in her frenzy. 

Once everything was packed and everyone was ready to go, Tora’s younger relatives, who, much like her, couldn’t go, but wanted to, run after the vehicles as they left her grandparent’s house, the starting point of every trip. They chased the last car until it disappeared on the street corner, waving and shouting good luck wishes. Other family members, who were more than happy in staying behind, kept by the veranda, laughing and slowly going inside again to reassume their lives. Tora stayed outside, playing with her cousins, and dirtying herself beyond her mother’s hopes of ever cleaning her.

That had been when she was a kid. As she grew older and counted the years until her fourteenth birthday, Tora slowly became more serious about the matter – she read through the hunting legislation and learned first aid and how to shoot a gun. There were still stories about hunts, that now she heard, thirstily, for the minimal details that could guide her through the actual thing.

But even that had been when she was too young. It had been before moving to America and it had been before…

“Tora?”

Blinking, startled, the girl turned her head around to face James, blushing hard when she realized she had been doing it again. Lately, it was becoming more and more common – she lost herself remembering home, and when someone called her back to reality, Tora was staring off in the distance, looking behind her shoulder, oblivious to the world. Maybe she just missed her family.

“Sorry,” apologized the girl, turning her attention back to the boy. “I got distracted.”

James opened his mouth, as if wondering if he could say something. “You have been doing that a lot,” remarked the boy, gently.

“Doing what?” questioned Tora, lowly, confused.

He gesture to the back of the room with his chin, “Looking back. You’ve been glancing over your shoulder the entire time you were here. I thought there might be something catching your eye, but…” he trailed off, examining her with intelligent eyes. “But I think there’s something in your mind?”

Tora bit her lips, considering how she could put the feeling into words. The boy waited patiently. “There is… a lot in my mind,” finally admitted the girl. “But I’ve been having this strange _feeling…_ for a long time, now. It’s strange. It feels as if there’s something missing, but I can’t remember what. And every time I think of past, but specially home, it… it worsens.”

James nodded, attentively, and Tora kept going, feeling her heart soften a little as she got it out. “It begun to happen around the time of your accident… so I _thought_ it was because of you, but I have been changing my mind. It is somewhat connected to my family. I have been thinking a lot of my childhood, and when I am remembering my first years after moving here, I feel… I feel this pressure in my chest, it is as if there is something I should be _doing…_ you understand?” she added, eagerly, as James continued to nod at her.

“It sounds to me like there’s probably something you’re regretting,” he answered, sensibly. “Or maybe that you are home sick. Did anything happen around the time you moved here that could be bugging you?”

“Not that I can remember,” denied Tora, thinking really hard. Of course the change had been difficult – a new continent, a new language, a new everything and all her friends back in Oslo, an eight-hour long flight away. But she had adapted, and made new friends, and begun eating P&J. What could possibly have happened?

But now that she was thinking about it… 

Tora couldn’t remember very well what she used to do at home on these first months after moving.

Surely she had spent a lot of time at home after they moved, right? There was plenty to be done in there – locks to fix, light bulbs to install and boxes to open – but most of those memories were kinda fuzzy. She remembered later times, going out with her new friends, school papers and joining sports teams, but she really couldn’t remember what did she even do at home to distract herself before all that.

Excited, Tora opened her mouth to tell this to James, but caught him staring at her with a reluctant, if polite, expression. She closed her lips, dread dripping softly down her back, as the boy tentatively moved a bit sideways, away from her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding confused, if amused, “I don’t think I caught your name. You are one of the nurses…?”

And just like that, her heart sunk to her knees again. 

.  
.  
.

Steph was willing to admit she was stalling having to go back home. Jean certainly knew something was up, and it was difficult lying to the face of someone who had known you ever since you were in diapers. Therefore, she hanged by the mall until it begun to get late and she run out of excuses to be out at that hour. Sighing and mentally preparing to deal with overprotective roommates, she headed home.

Halfway through, distracted by her own thoughts and hoping Peggy and Toni weren’t getting themselves killed right now, Steph almost missed Brenna as she passed right beside her.

“Wait.” said the girl to herself, turning around. She clearly saw Brenna, walking towards the end of the street, easily recognizable chopped hair and purple shirt. “Brenna?” she squinted. “Brenna! Hey, Brenna!” called Stephanie, turning around and hurrying up to her friend. “Brenna! Where are you going?”

Her friend stopped in her tracks, turning around to face Steph, who froze a few steps away. Brenna looked… she looked maniac, for the lack of a better word, with haunted eyes and a creepy half-smile that made Stephanie shiver with fear. “Brenna…?” 

“Ah, Stephanie,” said the girl, shuffling awkwardly in place, the half-smile plastered on her lips, “how… how you are doing, hm? I hope that you are fine.”

“I’m… I’m okay.” answered Steph, confused, scanning Brenna’s face, worriedly. “Brenna, are you… oh… oh, God. Oh, no. Oh, _no,_ ” she hissed, finally spotting the little square mark right above Brenna’s collarbone. Her blood run cold in her veins, panic bubbling subtly at the pit of her stomach. “That’s a Witch mark!” she breathed, taking a step back. “How did you…?”

“Ah… is it…?” said Brenna, airily, turning around again. “That’s good, Cap… I have to go, now. You know? Pretty busy… see you later…”

“Brenna? Brenna, wait!” Stephanie followed her immediately, running through dozens of different possibilities in her head. Could she stop Brenna? Not by talking, her friend barely seemed to be listening. Maybe by force? No, Brenna was stronger than she looked, and certainly stronger than Steph. If they struggled the police could come. They’d attract attention. And if Brenna was Witch-kissed, wasn’t the only way of removing it killing the Witch…?

 _Toni,_ thought Steph, frantically. Gosh, that’s right, _Toni!_

With fumbling fingers, the girl fished her cell out of her pocket and went through the contacts hurriedly, hitting the call button stronger than necessary.

“Pick up,” murmured Stephanie, urgently, against the phone. “Pick up, pickup, pickup…”

The beeping sound kept going. Cursing, she cut the call and dialed the second number – why did anyone need five phone numbers, anyway? – pressing the mobile against her ear again and praying silently.

Around her, other people had begun to gather, all of them walking on unsure feet, with the same creepy half-smiles glued to their faces. Brenna kept stumbling ahead as if she wasn’t even there. 

What if she couldn’t reach Toni in time? 

“Please pick up,” she pleaded, ardently, her palms sweaty. Fury – what about Fury? Could she reach Fury with his telepathy right now? If she could contract… if it was the only option...

But Fury was with Peggy! Stupid, _stupid…_

_“Stephanie?”_

Nearly dropping the phone with relief, Steph took a deep breath and replied: _“Toni?”_

 _“What happened?”_ demanded the girl, her voice tight and worried. There were noises behind her that Steph couldn’t put a name on.

 _“It’s my friend Brenna,”_ she explained, hurriedly, dropping her voice, _“she got kissed by a Witch, and she’s acting really weird – there’s a bunch of people here going somewhere, I think they all…”_

 _“Where are you?”_ interrupted Toni, promptly, adding something that Stephanie couldn’t hear to someone else.

Twisting her neck to see the street’s sign, Stephanie gave the address, adding: _“But they are going somewhere, Toni. They are moving. Where are you?”_

 _“I’m coming,”_ she replied, insistently. _“Steph, I want you to get out of there. I will find your friend, okay? Did you listen to me? Get out of there right now!”_

 _“We are turning right, now,”_ said Steph instead, ignoring the question. _“I think we’re heading towards…”_

 _“Stephanie, will you quit trying to act the heroine!”_ snapped Antonia on the other end, harshly. _“You are only going to be in the way!”_

 _“I won’t risk you not finding her in time!”_ snapped back the girl, raising her voice. _“So you can either shut up and get over here or you can keep arguing until I disconnect the call.”_

 _“Goddammit, Rogers!”_ growled Toni, frustrated. _“ “Fine! Just keep me updated on where you are, and for Crist’s sake, keep out of the way. Where now?”_

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie begun guiding Toni to their location. They were slowly, but surely moving towards an office’s building, already closed, dark and unpopulated. _Please get here soon_ , prayed Steph in her mind, as she delivered the address through the phone and held on with pale fingers. 

Brenna, alongside with the zumbified strangers, climbed the stairs slowly, talking in low, soft murmurs at each other and leaning heavily on the handrail. Steph stuck close to her friend, trying to look as small and unimportant as possible and keeping the cell close to her ear – she could hear Toni’s breathing and far-away background noises, like car engines and the sound of footsteps. She kept climbing.

At least, the group of people arrived at an empty floor, with an assortment of furniture pushed against the wall and covered by old sheets, the curtains drawn and a single lamp flickering at the center of the room eerily. There was a man sitting right beneath it, shoulder hunched, staring intently at a plastic bucket in front of him as he muttered something Steph couldn’t understand.

As she stood next to Brenna, trying to figure out what was going to happen next, a woman, clad in clothing that was probably meant for inside, bumped her shoulder walking towards the man in the center. Steph squinted to try and read the labels of the plastic bottles she was carrying.

With a jolt, she recognized them: even now she could hear her mother’s voice, back when Stephanie was finally old enough to get through children’s locks, lecturing her on dangerous chemicals found inside the house. Sarah, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and the white nurse’s uniform, had sat her daughter down on the living room and showed her the empty bottles, making Steph read the labels carefully. Then, with blue eyes serious and intense, she had warned her: _“Never_ mix these two, baby. They’re very dangerous and it could cause a terrible accident. I don’t want you to go near them when I’m not around, okay?”

She nodded, enthusiastically, to prove she’d been paying attention. “Okay, mum. I promise I won’t.”

Sarah smiled and put the bottles away. 

It seemed even now Stephanie wasn’t over the compulsion of keeping the promises she made to her mother – without thinking it through she motioned forward, trying to stop the woman, reaching for the bottle closer to her. Brenna’s arm around her waist stopped her abruptly.

“Ow, Cap,” reprehended the girl, mildly. “That’s… that’s not very nice of you. Maybe you should stay put.”

“Those products are dangerous!” protested Stephanie, automatically, struggling. “Everyone here could get killed!”

“But that’s the idea, Cap!” replied Brenna, nearly amused, easily keeping the girl back. Steph stared at her blank-faced. “Don’t you see?” she questioned, landing her hands on the blonde’s shoulder and pushing her back, moving her to block the view of the man. “It’s much better if we are not alive. It’s better if we die. It’s easier that way.”

The girl drew in a breath, feeling physically ill. She knew this wasn’t true, that these were the Witch’s words coming through her friend’s body. Still, to hear it said in Brenna’s voice…

She let her shoulders sag, relaxing her body so Brenna would lose her grip on her. As soon as the girl’s fingers slacked a bit, Steph pushed past her brusquely and broke into a run. The people around were too slow to stop her before she grabbed the plastic bucket where it lay on the floor and splinted towards the nearest window. Opening it harshly, with slippery fingers and blood hammering in her ears, she threw the liquid in the street, barely managing to hold on to the bucket. 

She held on to the windowsill, breathing deeply to calm her racing heart, fingers clutching the empty bucket so hard her knuckles were white – thank God she had made it to the window, she thought, drops of cold sweat running down her neck.

There was a noise behind her.

Spinning around, Stephanie let out a yell before she could suffocate it. The people, scattered around the room, were closing in on her, dragging their feet and staring with murderous intent and empty vacancy, stretching their hands towards her. Steph threw herself back, pressing against the wall and screaming as she tried to find a way through the crowd…

Suddenly.

Stephanie lost her balance, tripping forward and nearly falling face-first into the concrete floor, only avoiding it thanks to someone’s hands steadying her. There was a sudden, deafening silence that drowned the echoing moans from the Witch-kissed, as if sound had been turned off. Her stomach rolled violently, protesting against the incomprehensible change of surroundings.

“…swer me. Stephanie? _Stephanie?_ Are you listening to me? Are you hurt?”

Everything went back to normal in a blink: Stephanie was standing up far away from the window she had been pressing against just now, in the same room that was now, comparatively, silent, and the voice next to her ear should belong to the same person whose hands were on her elbows, keeping her from falling over.

“Toni?” checked Steph, raising her head. The girl let out a sigh, pulling her hands back and straightening up – she was in her Magical Girl outfit, her many weapons tucked neatly in belts and leather holders.

“What part of ‘don’t get into trouble’ did you not get, Rogers?” complained Toni, in a terrible mood, sending her a death glare. “I’m _trying_ to keep you alive, if you’d be so helpful and keep from following mass-suicide brain-washed _zombies_ into empty buildings!”

“I’m not getting into near-death situations because _I like_ them!” replied Stephanie, blushing with anger. “My friend was about to commit suicide, what did you want me to do, sit at home, turn out the lights and cry?”

“You could have done what I told you to, _and stayed out of the way.”_

“And you would have found everyone _dead_ by the time you got here, just like I _told you!”_

 _“Every time_ I see you, you are about to get blown up…”

“…so don’t come talking to me like I am some little kid…”

“…it’s _impossible_ to keep you alive, Rogers, don’t you think I have other places _to be…”_

“…if you are so goddammit busy, why don’t you shut the nagging for a minute…”

“…you think I am _nagging?_ What the fuck do you…”

“…if _I think_ you are nagging? How about a thank you for…”

“…you want me to _thank you?”_

_“SHUT UP!”_

They startled, jumping back, just now realizing they were in each other’s faces already. Stephanie turned, wondering who had spoken. 

“Peggy?” she breathed, eyes widening.

The girl stared daggers at them, carefully laying down a middle-aged woman who was passed out. Around her, the Witch-kissed were all laying on the floor with yellow ribbons tied around their wrists and ankles, in varying states of unconsciousness. Peggy had obviously been dealing with every single one of them, including Brenna, while Stephanie and Antonia tried to bite each other’s heads off.

“Now that you have stopped squabbling,” said Peggy, in a hard voice, looking at Toni. “Can we please do our job and kill the Witch before they wake up?”

If Antonia felt the slightest bit ashamed, she didn’t show it. “I will do it. Keep watch on them.” she answered, shortly, going past Peggy and towards a closed door on the far end of the room – the strange blue light that always shone through her blouse grew stronger as she opened it and disappeared inside a supplies’ closet.

The two girls didn’t move a muscle once she was gone, avoiding each other’s eyes and not speaking a word to break the tension. Self-consciously, Steph hurried over to Brenna’s side, kneeling down and feeling her face, adjusting her into a better position.

“She’s your friend?”

Stephanie raised her head – Peggy was tentatively kneeling on Brenna’s other side, pressing her lips together.

“I… yes,” agreed the girl, lowly, “this is Brenna Banner. We live together.”

“Quite the alliterative name.”

Steph chuckled shortly. “Yes.”

Brenna struggled a bit. She held her shoulders down weakly. “So…” without looking up, the girl hesitated before asking: “you and Toni are working together now?”

“At least temporarily,” confirmed Peggy, formally. “Yes.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “Did she give you her number?”

Stephanie looked up, blinking at the odd question. “She did. Why?”

The girl shook her head, brushing it off, and backed away to check on everyone else. Steph remained next to Brenna, burning her neurons to figure out what the question had meant . Had Peggy sounded bitter or was it just her ears?

She was beginning to get cold, and Brenna was still struggling. Stephanie kept her down. It was a tell of how little strength the girl had right now that she barely struggled. Two years ago, when Stephanie moved in with Philly, charge free no matter how much she protested, Brenna had done the biggest part of the heavy lifting. Tora was the only one who could keep up with her in terms of strength. It surprised most people, that kind, scruffy-looking shorty Brenna could beat men twice her size in arm wrestling.

It didn’t surprise Stephanie anymore.

An infinity later, Toni got out of the supplies’ closet, holding something in her hand that she carefully handed over to Peggy, trying to be conspicuous about the whole thing. The girl saw it anyway – it was probably a Grief Seed, if the fading mark on Brenna’s collarbone was anything to go by. Her muscles finally relaxed. Thank God – she wouldn’t know what to do if something had happened to Brenna.

“She’s going to wake up soon.” warned Toni, walking towards her. Steph did her best not to glare at the girl.

“I have to take her home.” she replied, instead, trying to raise Brenna’s shoulders off the floor. The other girl rolled her eyes.

“I’ll carry her.” she decided, easily lifting Brenna up. Stephanie turned around to check on Peggy, but the girl was already gone. Trying not to feel hurt, she got up, too.

“What about everyone else?”

“Carter is calling the police. They’ll take care of them.” guaranteed the brunette, shifting Brenna around to get a better grip. “Let’s go, or do you prefer to explain to your friends why you were around when they found her?”

“I’m _going.”_ replied Steph, short-tempered, following Toni out. Brenna was breathing steady now.

They walked slowly, keeping to the shadows and back alleys to avoid attracting attention, specially giving Toni’s black-and-gold clothing. Examining it closer, Steph realized it wasn’t really black. It was a deep blue, dark enough to look black, but livelier than that. It melted easily against the shadows, but the gold kept sparkling and reflecting every light. 

Toni carried her roommate as if she weighted nothing, although Steph wasn’t sure if that wasn’t pure stubbornness. They finally reached the girl’s house, going through the back and stopping right under Brenna’s dark window.

“I wonder if Tora’s home.” whispered the girl, looking around. “Can you carry her to the window?”

“Yeah – I just need to unlock it first.” confirmed Toni, putting Brenna down. It didn’t go unnoticed by Steph how careful she was, laying her head delicately against the wall, and letting go of her weight very slowly, adjusting her angle and grip until Brenna was safely on the floor. It made her feel better. 

A lot of up and downs after, and a quick clothing change, Brenna was safely tucked away in her pajamas and her own bed, sleeping the curse away. Stephanie was covered in cold sweat and exhausted, but thoroughly relieved.

“Thanks, Toni,” she murmured, sitting at the edge of Tora’s bed. “It seems I own you another one.” She added, downbeat. Toni glanced at her from where she stood, leaning against the window.

“You don’t owe me anything, Rogers.” replied the girl, shrugging. Her tone gave Steph pause.

“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning.

“I got a Grief Seed.” explained Toni, shortly. “Which is, if you will remember, what Magical Girls are all about. Well, except for Carter, but I never said she has any good sense.” The girl rolled her eyes. “So, as far as I see it, it was a good trade. Don’t mistake me, I am not about saving civilians – I keep girls from contracting, if I can. That’s just about it.” She gestured to Brenna. “So that your friend over here isn’t reduced to tiny little pieces? That was you. Not me.”

Stephanie stared at Toni, unsure. “Are you trying to cheer me up?”

“Of course not.” Toni scowled, dismissive, straightening up and dusting her hands by clapping them together. “Hurry up, I’ll drop you outside again.”

“Why?” questioned Steph, raising one eyebrow and watching the girl opening the windows again. “I _live_ here.”

“Well,” Toni looked back over her shoulder as she raised herself onto the ledge. “If you _want_ to go downstairs and explain to your roommates where the hell did you come from– by all means, be my guest.” deadpanned the girl, sarcastically. “Otherwise, I think you will want to use the front door.”

Resisting the urge to tell Toni to fuck off, Stephanie got up. The girl offered a hand to help Steph climb up, steadying her as she crouched in the open window – she held on to the frame and gripped the brunette’s fingers tighter. Toni gently unclenched her fingers by holding them with her right hand and passing Stephanie’s arm over her shoulder. “Hold on.” she told her, wrapping her left arm around the girl’s waist.

Stephanie did, gripping Toni’s shoulder tightly. Taking a small impulse, she jumped off the window, landing softly and slower than she should have, on the grass beneath it. She had barely felt the impact at all.

“This time,” said Toni, as they stepped away from each other, giving her a look that was only slightest bitchy, _“don’t_ get almost killed, all right?”

“And next time,” replied Steph, using a voice that was only slightest bitchy, “pick up the phone right away, all right?”

“There better not be a next time.” muttered the girl, disappearing on the shadows behind Stephanie’s house with a last glimmer of gold.

Wanting her bed really, really badly, she sighed and went around the house, fishing her keys out of her pocket on the way.

.  
.  
.

It was beginning to get dark outside, and Tora knew the girls at home would be waiting for her in no time at all – but she lingered, sitting in a stone bench at the back of the hospital, surrounded by gardens and small flower pots left by relatives. 

Sitting next to her, silent as his tail twitched slowly, Fury raised his eyes to meet the girl’s.

“You can really do it?” asked Tora, gravely, and just a bit intimidating. “Can you get all of his memory back? Before the accident, after it – everything back and working again?” 

The panther agreed, nodding slowly. He was very dark in contrast with the pink, blue and white of the roses behind him. He was also strangely quiet. 

“You can heal him with your wish,” guaranteed Fury. “It will be granted without a doubt.”

Tora took a deep breath. Fixing her eyes on a point on the horizon, she rolled the words inside her mouth, making sure she had the wording just right. Her heart was beating fast like a hummingbird’s. There was cold sweat dripping down the back of her neck. She sat with her back straight and her hands clasped together on her lap.

“I wish…”

A sudden blast of cold air interrupted her, tossing her hair into her face. Tora gasped, surprised, as something sped by next to her with a loud, high whistle. 

There was a wet noise followed by a sickening ripping sound. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Tora saw the scene before she could properly process it – she turned her head slowly, dread crawling up her body in freezing waves as her brain finally took hold of the situation.

There was blood.

Streams of blood were pooling next to her, dripping down the bench, staining the light stone a dark red as it crept closer to her leg. Fury laid on his side, his eyes unfocused and wide open staring at nothing, as more and more blood kept running down his body, clinging to his fur.

And buried right in the middle of it was a huge ice stake, its crevices too filled with little rivers of blood. 

Slowly, trembling violently, Tora kept turning until she found the spot where the stake had been shot from. Standing by the entrance of the garden, there was a little girl, maybe ten or so, with wild, long black hair. She was holding some sort of scepter on her right hand whose pointed tip was covered in frost. Her green eyes were lit up with hatred and her pale face was livid. Next to her, a big, black dog growled menacingly, its fur standing up, its shoulders hunched.

The blood reached her body, drenching the fiber of her skirt until she felt the hot wetness against her tight.

And that’s when Tora begun to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else hate putting the italics in the AO3 code? Jesus...


	5. “I do Believe She Used to be Kind”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: depiction of "child soldiers", with the resulting abandonment, violence and emotional/physical damage that stems from it. Descriptions of blood, injury and cannibalism. Brief mention of PTSD.

There was blood. There was _so much_ blood and it kept overflowing, dark, hot and dripping in the grass. 

Fury wasn’t moving, he wasn’t breathing, he was dead, _dead_ and still _bleeding_ , and God, why wouldn’t it _stop?_

The scream built up at the pit of her stomach, growing as it tore its way up her throat and filled her lungs, ripping her lips open…

She threw herself away from the bench, tripping on her own feet and screaming, screaming, screaming her heart out, her vision red and her muscles trembling.

A hand pressed against her mouth ruthlessly, silencing the screams.

“Shut _up!”_ hissed a voice in her ear. Tora trashed, trying to elbow the owner of it, when something sharp pressed against her neck. “I _said,”_ the voice whispered, threatening and dark, “shut. The hell. Up.”

Tora obeyed.

The pressure on her neck eased very carefully. “Good.” said the girl, evenly – it was a girl, right? With cold, delicate fingers and a voice too old and too cruel. “Get up already, you look pathetic.”

Shaking and breathing in short breaths, Tora pushed herself to a sitting position, and then slowly rose to her feet.

Standing next to her was the girl she’d seen by the gate.

She was a good head shorter than Tora, maybe even more, and very, very skinny – something that could only come up from the combination of natural boniness and barely avoiding starvation. Her face was made of sharp, elegant lines, with thin lips and sculpture cheekbones. Her hair was deep black, in sharp contrast with her pale skin, full and wild, as if it hadn’t seen a brush in a long time. But her most starting feature were her eyes – they were an indecipherable shade of green, that Tora could not, for the life of her, properly describe.

And they were – there was no other world to convey it – _feral_.

Beside the bench, a black street dog as big as the girl with flappy triangular ear was growling at Fury’s corpse. Giving Tora a warning look, arching one eyebrow almost artistically, she went around the girl to put a hand on his fur, her fingers disappearing in it. “Shush, Fenrir.” she soothed, stroking his neck. “This one’s dead already. Shush, now. Quiet, boy.”

Slowly, the dog relaxed, barking once more and pressing his shoulders against the girl’s hips. She patted him affectionately and touched the tip of her spear – taller than herself, with a glowing sphere between two sharp blades – to the ice stake buried on Fury’s body. It melted, watering down the blood and soaking the panther’s fur. 

“You…” stammered Tora, backing away from the scene slowly. “You killed… you _killed_ Fury.” She stared at the stranger with huge eyes, discreetly looking for something she could protect herself with. “Who _are_ you?”

The girl looked at her over her shoulder. “Oh, _relax,”_ she complained, annoyed, with cold eyes. “I didn’t _kill_ it.” Reaching out, she grabbed the back of Fury’s neck and raised the body, shaking it as one might do with a wet rag. Drops of blood splashed, staining her cloths. “God knows I’ve _tried_. I _wish_ it were that easy.”

Extending the body towards her dog, the girl raised her voice, leaning on her scepter: “Come out, come out, whenever you are!” she called, defiantly, under Tora’s horrified stare. “C’mon, your little parasite, I _know_ you always have dozens of extras lurking around hospitals. Tora thinks I’ve killed you! You wouldn’t want her to stay in the dark, would you? _You don’t lie to us_ , isn’t that right?”  
Just as Tora was beginning to think the girl was completely homicidal and that she should begin formulating an escape plan, the bushes near the bench begun to shudder. 

And out of them, appeared… Fury.

Frozen with shock, only her eyes moving rapidly from the corpse on the girl’s hand to the living, breathing, moving thing on the floor, Tora watched the scene unfold on front of her in stunned silence.

“Honestly, Loki.” berated the panther, walking smoothly and unbothered over the blood that had dripped into the ground. “Must you do this every time? You know what an awful waste that is.”

The girl – Loki – snickered disdainfully. “Yes, I do.” she replied, tossing the carcass at the floor on front of him as if it were a rag doll. It fell with a wet, squishy sound. “It annoys you.”

“It doesn’t annoy me.” protested the panther, nonchalantly.

“You fake well.” deadpanned Loki, patting her dog – he’d begun barking again once Fury had showed up. “Shush, Fenrir. Not this time.” reprimanded the girl. Ignoring her, he stepped forward, hunching as if about to pounce at Fury. “Fenrir, _sit.”_ she ordered, firmly, and he sat back hesitantly, still eyeing the panther with barely contained aggression.

“I do wish you’d stop killing me on sight: you know it is fruitless” sighed Fury, leaning down. “Well, no reason to let it go to waste.”

Loki’s scepter faded in a small gleam of green light, shrinking back into a ring. She watched with cold detachment and blatant disinterest as the panther sunk his teeth on the carcass and begun tearing away small bites, swallowing it down neatly.

Tora’s stomach lurched violently. Before she knew it, she was leaning against a tree trunk, throwing up her soul. 

.  
.  
. 

It was times like these Toni felt very, _very_ tempted to just toss it all up in the air and let the whole world be dammed – let it all end in fire and pain. Let them all die. Just be done with it already and see if she cares. 

Taking a deep breath, she did her best to stay focused. This kind of attitude wouldn’t do – she was doing this for a reason, a reason far too important to just loose her cool right now.

She hoped a certain someone was watching her now. That’d show him. Impatient and reckless her ass.

“Did you pick the most inconvenient time to show up on purpose?” asked Toni, conjuring her most nasty look to glare at the girl.

Loki raised her eyebrows, deeply amused, and smiling delightfully. She was leaning against the wall with a travelling bag slung over her shoulder, a cat nested on her left arm and a big street dog by her right leg.  
“Why, no.” answered the girl, innocently. “If I had known I would be in the way I would have been noisier.” She accommodated the cat better, cradling it over her shoulder like a newborn baby, even though it was a skinny, dirty-white thing. “Did I disturb your date?”

Loki gestured at the street corner Toni had just turned. The older girl glared harder – it sucked hard enough having to talk about Obadiah with Stephanie. Having to talk about Obadiah while being watched by a cheeky pre-pubescent girl was frying her nerves beyond those she could spare.

“Yes, you did.” Toni eyed the cat. “And who’s _this?”_

“The message I got said you would be covering all living expenses.” remarked Loki, coolly. The collected façade was somewhat ruined by the fact she was cradling a cat. 

“Yes, and?” replied the girl, rubbing the bridge of her nose. If she ever lived to become a CEO, she had a feeling she would end up murdering her employees.

“That includes them, or we have no deal.” she informed, very calmly, stepping away from the wall and fixing the bag strap over her shoulder. “Shall we walk, Miss Stark?”

“We shall get a cab.” corrected Toni, grabbing her cellphone again and giving her a look. “Miss…?”

“Laufeyson. Loki Laufeyson.” said Loki, scratching behind her dog’s years. “This is Fenrir, and she is Bitteline. Do not try to touch her if you value your eyes. And don’t bother with small talk.”

“The feeling is mutual.” remarked Toni, stepping away from the cat. Loki maneuvered her pets and her bag graciously onto the back seat of the cab, and when the driver turned around to complain about it, both girls outglared him at once. A silent trip later, the younger girl dropped her bag on Toni’s couch at her workshop, and her pets curled together at her side, Bitteline unceremoniously resting on top of Fenrir’s head.

“So,” Loki straightened her pullover and crossed her legs in a polite manner much too familiar to Toni. She gave the older girl a considering look, as if analyzing her behind undecipherable green eyes. “Xavier’s message said you wanted to strike a deal.” 

“Yes.” Agreed Toni, shortly, sitting across the table from her.

Loki raised an eyebrow teasingly. “And what I am _really_ dying to know,” she proceeded, knowingly, leaning back against the couch, “is who exactly are you and why you wanted me so badly you had Xavier zapping a telepathic message across the country border.”

If nothing else, Toni could admire her good sense. It was such a rare quality nowadays. “You know exactly who I am, Laufeyson.” replied the girl, directly to the point. “I’m sure you are familiarized with Stark Industries.”

“The cellphone company?” smirked Loki, amused, tilting her head.

“Very funny.”

The girl chuckled, unbothered. “The latest news is that you are being sued by the government for dealing under the table.” she stated, accepting the can of coke Toni pushed towards her and opening it with a frizzling sound. “Does _this_ have anything to do with that?”

Toni shook her head, shoving thoughts of Obadiah aside for the moment. “Only indirectly, and only if you squint.” replied the girl, opening her own can. “And as for why I called you…” she looked directly at her in the most serious manner she could. “I didn’t want you, specifically. I need another Magical Girl, and I think we both know the ones in this city well enough to know they won’t bother.”

A quick shadow crossed over Loki’s face. Her eyes dropped minimally for half a second, as if remembering long lost memories. The moment was gone so fast anyone would’ve thought it to be their imagination. Toni knew better. “What of Peggy Carter?” she inquired, tapping the can thoughtfully. “She is a do-gooder.”

“You met her before, didn’t you?”

Loki smiled almost cruelly. “We have somewhat of a shared past. _Past_ being the imperative word.” taking a sip from her coke, she proceeded: “Is she not interested?”  
“I _am_ working with Carter, actually.” informed Toni, just the slightest bit sour. “But I’m not putting all my money in her. She hates my guts.”

_“Carter?”_ asked Loki, scoffing unbelievingly. 

“Yes, Laufeyson. _Carter.”_

“What did you do to her?” she inquired, amused. “Did you steal her girl or what?”

Toni glared at her hard enough to freeze the flames of hell. Loki just smiled victoriously. “Oh, so you did.” she chuckled into her drink. “Well, that is fine by me. But what makes you think I will be willing to help you?”

Toni put her can down on the table, reaching out to her cellphone and tapping a few buttons swiftly. “Because I can offer _you_ something in exchange.”

Loki seemed thoroughly unconvinced. “Yes? And what would _that_ be?”

The girl turned the phone around and pushed it towards her calmly. “Information.” she replied, tapping the screen. “And protection.”

The younger girl arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, taking the phone with slim, elegant fingers.

The next second, Toni had a blade pressed painfully against her neck, as well as a growling dog slowly advancing towards her with bared teeth. With eyes as cold and murderous as a demon, and a voice sharp as a knife, Loki pressed the blade in further, hard enough to draw blood.

“Tell me everything you know.” she demanded, eyes flaring up ravenously. _“NOW!”_

Doing her best not to gulp, or in any way jam her own throat against the sharp edges of her scepter, Toni begun talking.

.  
.  
. 

“Do you think you are done, now?”

Tora nodded weakly, drying her forehead with Loki’s borrowed tissues and accepting the water bottle she was offering.

“Thank you.” murmured Tora, draining half of the water in one go. 

“You are welcome.” replied Loki, shrugging. “Just stay put for a while, yes?”

Taking a deep breath, Tora agreed, trying not to think too hard about what had just happened. Everything was silent for the moment, except for the hospital murmurs in the distance and the girl’s breathing next to her shoulder. Loki had sat next to her on the ground, back against the tree trunk, after making her sit down and put her head between her knees. Tora’s throat still ached from throwing up, and her stomach was really, truly unhappy.

She took another deep breath.

Finally, as her head seemed to settle in again, Tora was able to lift it properly. Fury was sitting near them, in silence, under the hostile stares of Loki and her dog. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by it.  
Right now, Tora couldn’t look at him. So she stared at Loki, instead.

The girl looked every bit like a child who had grown up on the streets, with a hunted quality to her features that Tora had learned to recognize from institutions Elin had taken her to. Her bones showed right under the surface, in sharp edges and stretched skin and hungry angles. Even the way she held herself was a hint – as if she was constantly about to be attacked. She was wearing black yoga pants, brown loafers and a knee-length green pullover. And every single piece of clothing was worn thin. 

“Who are you?” murmured Tora, puzzled. _Something_ about this girl unsettled her – a feeling she couldn’t quite analyze right now, when Fury’s blood had just dried off against her tight.

“My name is Loki.” replied the girl, evenly, spreading her left hand to show the infinity symbol on her nail and the jade-colored ring around her finger. “Magical Girl. Need-to-know basis.”

Tora agreed hesitantly. “My name is Tora Odison.” she said, frowning at the last statement.

“Yes, I know.” informed Loki, shifting uneasily and settling more comfortably in the grass. “Could you tell Isee to fuck off? I prefer not to have this conversation on front of it.”

The girl blinked, unsure. “Isee…?” she repeated, frowning. The brunette stared at her with a blank expression for a few moments.

“Oh, of course,” she finally said, rolling her eyes impatiently. “You probably use the stupid name Carter picked. I meant Fury. Could you tell _Fury_ to fuck off?”

“Oh.” Tora turned towards the panther, who was still sitting nonchalantly at a decent distance. His fur was still stained with blood. The sight of him made her shiver. “Fury,” she called, injecting confidence in her voice, “I believe it is best if you leave us now.”

His tail twitched. “Are you sure, Tora?” He glanced shortly at Loki. “Are you sure you trust her?”

“If you do not scatter, I swear by God I will blow you up, too.” threatened the younger girl, and her dog snarled in support. 

“It is fine.” interrupted Tora, before the situation could escalate. “I do not believe she will hurt me. But I… I do prefer that you leave, now.”

Fury sighed. “Fine, if you want me to.” He got on his feet and begun walking away at a leisure pace. “If you want to seal the contract at once, Tora, you know where to find me.”

“I will count to three.” muttered Loki, pulling her ring off defiantly. The panther sighed again and disappeared from sight. “Nasty little critter.” 

The dog seemed to relax at once now that Fury was gone – he slumped on Loki’s lap gratefully and rolled on his back, his tongue hanging out and ears flapping adorably. “Now, you,” said the girl, grabbing his face and petting him affectionately. “Did a great job. Good boy, Fenrir. Very good boy!”

Fenrir barked, happily. Tora watched them with silent surprise. “His name is Fenrir?”

Loki interrupted her petting to look up at her. “Yes,” she confirmed, still clinging to the dog as if he were a doll. “Why?”

“And your name is Loki?”

“My parents were Scandinavian.” explained the girl, dryly, making clear this was an off-limits topic. “I’m assuming yours, too?”

“I am Norwegian.” agreed Tora, growing more surprised still. 

Now that Fury had gone, she could almost see Loki’s muscles unwinding and her barriers going slightly down. The hunted look was still present, but now it was more of a looming darkness at the back of her eyes, instead of an ominous presence that overpowered it all. And she was obviously crazy about that dog – she was trying to be discreet about it, but Tora could see the look of utter adoration in her face, the look that only came with sincere love. 

No. She was sure this girl wasn’t going to hurt her.

“How old are you?” asked Tora, her voice growing stronger. Loki stopped playing with Fenrir again to stare at her. 

Keeping eye contact with her was hard. It was as if the green irises were boring into Tora’s soul.

“Thirteen.” she replied, almost defiantly. The girl did her best not to let her chin drop – Loki didn’t look a day over ten.

Except… now that she was watching closely, Tora realized that wasn’t exactly truth. Loki was very thin, that’s true, but she wasn’t that short. Her face had already lost the roundness of a kid. And it were her baggy clothes that made her seem younger, swallowing her body indistinctively. 

“You were going to contract, weren’t you?” asked Loki, calmly rubbing Fenrir’s ears. Tora hesitated, startled out of her daydreaming – then nodded. “What for?”

“What for…?” her eyes trailed off by themselves towards the hospital. 

“Got someone in there?” concluded the girl, knowingly, following her gaze. She seemed amazingly calm for someone who’d just put an ice stake through a living being’s heart.

“I… yes.” admitted Tora, uneasily. “My boyfriend, James. He had an accident last year and… and he lost his short-term memory.” she paused, adding: “Like the girl from _‘50 First Dates’?”_

Loki arched one eyebrow at her. “I know what short-term memory means.”

“Right. Sorry.” apologized the girl. It was just that people always asked that question. “He only holds memories a few hours at a time. Sometimes it gets worse. And the…” she gulped, holding her knees in tighter. “And the doctors don’t think he’ll recover.”

The brunette watched her with intense eyes as always. “And you were going to wish for his health?” she guessed, dropping her gaze again. Tora nodded, weakly – just a few minutes ago, her resolve had been as hard as rock. Now, once again… she didn’t feel so sure. Loki sighed next to her, frustration rolling off her body in heavy waves. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s a stupid idea to contract on someone else’s behalf? In fact,” she looked up at Tora, “it’s a stupid idea to contract _at all.”_

_“You_ contracted.” replied Tora, defensively.

“Yes,” agreed Loki, coldly. “And it ruined my life.”

Taken aback by the comment, the girl stared at her, trying to determine if she really did mean it – but it _was_ hard to maintain eye contact with her. 

Loki sighed deeply, as if dealing with a small, stubborn child. “Listen, do you know someone named Antonia Stark?”

Tora tensed against her will, weary of Antonia’s name. “You know her?”

“Met her just now.” answered the girl, simply. “We have a deal. Apparently she has good timing, too, considering I barely got here in time to stop you.” with that, she stared sourly at the blood-stained bench. The fire in her eyes flared up for a moment before quieting down again.

Tora processed the new information, before fully understanding what she had just said. “Wait,” she frowned, puzzled and somewhat disbelieving. “You mean _Antonia_ sent you… to keep me from contracting?”

Loki gave her a look that spelled very plainly: isn’t that obvious?

She frowned harder. _“Why?”_

“Beats me.” The younger girl shrugged. “She says she’s trying to keep you and some friend of yours from contracting? Maybe she’s just acting the savior of human kind. Maybe she has a crush on you. I certainly do not know.”

Tora’s mouth fell open a little, as she begun to get a real grasp of the situation. Antonia _was _trying to keep her from contracting, too. So she hadn’t a specific problem with Steph, except… except maybe if she had a _crush_ on her?__

__It felt like a stupid reason, too simplistic, and too romanticized. But it _would_ explain some things. Rubbing her eyes, she let the issue drop for the moment. “Then why are you helping her?”  
Loki “tsked”, petting Fenrir to make him get up. “Stark has something I want. As I told you, we have a deal.” She got up, brushing the dirt off her pullover. “Buy me dinner, will you?”_ _

__The phrase was so sudden and off-topic it took Tora a few seconds to process it. “What?” she asked, blinking and staring up at the girl._ _

__“Buy me dinner.” she repeated, nonchalantly, putting her hands on her hips. “I just kept you from making the biggest mistake of your life, and I’ve been stuck on an airplane for the last eight hours. I am starving. The least you could do is buy me dinner.”_ _

__“Oh.” Tora got up too, trying to make herself more presentable. Fenrir sniffed her hand tentatively, staying glued to Loki’s side protectively. “Yes, I… I believe that is so. Where… where would you like to go?”  
“Anywhere is fine.” replied the girl, shrugging. Tora picked her backpack from the floor and walked towards the exit self-consciously. Loki followed with Fenrir on her ankles._ _

__They spotted an Italian restaurant two blocks from the hospital – Loki crouched down on front of Fenrir and begun murmuring something to him that the girl couldn’t make out. He barked, licked her face affectionately, then sat down next to the motorcycle parking and waved his tail happily._ _

__“Is he trained?” inquired Tora, waiting for her by the door._ _

__“He is smart.” replied Loki, giving a smile in his direction. Her face softened when she did that. It made Tora’s heart twist._ _

__They sat down at a table near the back – Loki ordered enough food to feed an army with surprising elegance. She even put her paper napkin on her lap, seemingly without noticing. Tora frowned – it didn’t look the behavior of someone who had been raised on the streets. Come to think of it, neither was her hold of cutlery or her taste on cuisine._ _

__And she had said her wish had ruined her life. Maybe there was more to this story…_ _

__“You are staring an awful lot.” commented Loki, cutting her steak without looking up. Tora blushed._ _

__“I am sorry,” she apologized, barely touching her own food. It was pretty early – they were alone in the restaurant, and the staff was huddled in a corner, talking in relaxed voices. “I was merely… wondering.”_ _

__The girl raised her eyes – Tora gulped around the knot in her throat. “About…?”_ _

__“You.” she admitted, playing with her fork. “You are terribly cryptic.”_ _

__The brunette shrugged. “I have explained it as far as it concerns you, I believe.”_ _

__Tora considered what little information she had, or thought she had, about Loki – a girl whose wish had “ruined her life”, who had been living in the streets for some time, and who was trying to keep her from contracting on Antonia’s orders, because she had something Loki wanted._ _

__“How did you know about Fury?” asked the girl, puzzled. “In fact… I still do not understand. _What_ happened at the hospital? He was dead and then… he was not and…”_ _

__Loki put her fork down for a moment to take a long gulp from her juice. “Isee… I mean, _Fury.”_ she rolled her eyes as the word fell from her lips. “Is a hive mind. It has many identical drones that share a single mind, speak with the same voice, and look exactly the same. Many girls do not even realize there’s more than one of it.” She paused to chew another bite. “Killing any of the drones is of little consequence. There’s always another one to take its place.” With an ironic look and a twist of her eyebrows, she added: “did you never wonder how could Fury single-handedly form contracts throughout the entirety of NY? Let alone the rest of the world.”_ _

__Feeling remarkably dumb, Tora shook her head negatively. “I never… I never wondered about that.”_ _

__Loki snorted, derogatorily. “Very few ever do.” Easily twisting her spaghetti around her fork, she proceeded. “It hates when I kill the drones, though. It says it’s a waste. I mostly just do it for personal fulfillment.”  
The girl frowned, bothered by the phrasing. “Why do you keep calling him an ‘it’?”_ _

__“Why do you keep calling it a ‘him’?” shot back the brunette, ironically. “You just saw it eating one of its own drones, Tora. You can’t possibly believe it has any sense of gender. It isn’t human. Hell, it’s not even an animal.”_ _

__Shaken up, and trying to find an argument to counter-attack it, Tora realized Loki was _right_ – she had never been told Fury was male. She had never even been told he _was_ actually a panther._ _

__“But Peggy…” she tried, hating to admit she had overlooked something so obvious._ _

__“Carter calls it a ‘him’ out of co-dependency and stupidity.” mocked the girl, shaking her head in disgust. “Did you know she was the one who picked that name? Fury? That’s _cute.”_ She rolled her eyes. “But it’s not its real name. Most Magical Girls simply name it on their own. Some girls around here actually call it Sammy.”_ _

__Tora blinked, thrown-off. _“Sammy?”__ _

__“They think it sounds like Samuel L. Jackson. I don’t know, I didn’t come up with it.” replied the smaller girl, shrugging it off. She shook her head, baffled._ _

__“And what do _you_ call him?” she inquired, trying to remember it. “Isee? Icy?”_ _

__“IC.” corrected Loki, patiently. “As in the letters I and C. It’s short for its real name.”_ _

__“And what is it?”_ _

__“Does it matter?”_ _

__Tora sighed, feeling so very tired she was about to crawl off her own skin. “No,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I do not suppose it does.”_ _

__The brunette kept eating in silence, concentrating on her food. “But,” called the blonde, suddenly, looking back at her companion. “I am sorry, I still do not understand why you hate Fury so.”_ _

__Loki paused after gulping down a bite, and then slowly put her fork down, pushing the plate away a bit and crossing her arms over the table. “Tora,” she said, her voice dead serious. The girl felt herself leaning forward without meaning to, hanging on her every word. “Let me ask you something. How old are you?”_ _

__Trying to understand where this conversation was going, she answered truthfully. “Fifteen. Why do you…”_ _

__“How old is your friend?”_ _

__“Stephanie? Fifteen, too, but I do not…”_ _

__“How old do you think Carter was when she contracted?”_ _

__“I…” Tora blinked, backing away unconsciously. “I never asked…”_ _

__“Or Stark? How old do you think she was? How old do you think I was?” Not giving her time to recover, Loki went on, barely stopping to breath. “I was twelve, Tora. Twelve years and two months old. Do you know what’s the legal age for driving?”_ _

__“It is sixteen, is it not?” babbled the girl, struggling to make sure that was right._ _

__“It’s sixteen.” Agreed the girl, sharply. “You also need to be at least sixteen to marry. And the legal age for drinking? Eighteen, twenty-one depending on where you are. The same age requirement for enlisting in the army. Do you understand what I am saying?” she leaned forward even further, green eyes flaring. “Didn’t Carter nearly die the other day, Tora? Do you think it’s a rare occurrence?”_ _

__Irises burrowing into her soul painfully, the girl whispered, very finally: “It is not.”_ _

__Tora averted her eyes, but Loki did not stop. “Magical Girls die every day, Tora. We get devoured, maimed and bled to death. We disappear in Witch’s Labyrinths. We get _killed_ regularly. And when you are not killed,” her tone became harder, “then you have to lie to your parents. You sneak out of home every night and they think you are doing drugs or stealing or trafficking. You come home bruised and sore and far too late and you can’t explain why, or how, and you can’t tell them it won’t happen again. Because it will. And when you have to keep lying and pretending, what’s to keep them from institutionalizing you? But you can’t stay there and behave, because there’s Witches to kill. And you can’t go home, either. So then what?”_ _

__“And when it’s not your parents, it’s your friends you are lying to. They ask you what has happened with you and why you are suddenly so busy, but you can’t tell them the truth because – they wouldn’t believe you anyway. So they ask you where were you last night, and what’s worrying you, and why you are limping, and you lie to them again and again and again. How can you ever become close to another person? You would have to tell them who you are first, and you don’t want them to get involved. You can’t stop doing it. You can’t ever be anything but it. How would you build a career when there’s new Witches popping up every few seconds?”_ _

__“What if we need help? What if we need someone to teach you how to fight? Heck, what if you need someone to talk to? There’s a chance in hell you’ll find any, because all the other Magical Girls are just as fucked up as you are. You have no one to turn to. No one who can fight Witches but you. You don’t get sick days, you don’t get a week off if your grandmother dies. You can never stop fighting Witches all by yourself until the day they kill you.”_ _

__Tora eye’s prickled painfully as she kept staring away. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her hands fisted under the table as she struggled not to hear._ _

__“Carter fights with _shotguns.”_ added Loki, very lowly. “What kind of person would ask a teenager to fight monsters with a _shotgun_ , Tora? What kind of thing asks children to fight and die before they are old enough to _drive?”_ She paused, voice becoming softer, but still final. “Do you think _you_ are old enough to make that kind of decision?”_ _

__The day of James’ accident had been the worst day of Tora’s life so far. She had heard him scream, and couldn’t find him, and the silence that followed was just as horrible. And then they _had_ found him – at the bottom of a sharp decline, not moving and maybe not breathing, and maybe dead, oh please let him be alive, and there was nothing she could do but wait and hope and hate herself from taking him on that camping trip._ _

__She had never thought she’d feel as heart-wrenchingly horrible, dead inside, as she had felt that day._ _

__She had been wrong._ _

__“No.” she said, forcing the words out from her white lips. “No, I am not.”_ _

__“No one is.” agreed Loki, and the weariness in her voice was far too deep for her young age. “And that is why I hate IC. It is not human, Tora. It talks like us, and it acts as if it cares, but there’s simply no measure of human thinking in it. It works on a different frequency. It’s useless trying to argue with it. You can’t understand it, you can’t depend on it, and _most important of all_ , you _can’t trust it.”__ _

__Tora buried her face in her hands, feeling simply too tired to deal with it right now. Then, shaking herself and picking up the pieces, she managed to pull herself together as well as she could. Raising her eyes and drying her cheeks, she nodded in agreement._ _

__“Good,” approved Loki, pulling her plate closer to her again. “I am glad we came to an understanding.”_ _

__Tora sniffled discreetly. “Why do you do that?”_ _

__“Do what?”_ _

__“Your accent.” explained the girl, inhaling deeply. “It comes and goes all the time.”_ _

__She didn’t hesitate: “I grew up in a bilingual home. I do it without realizing.”_ _

__The information was stored neatly next to the few puzzle pieces Tora already had. “Oh, right.”_ _

__“And Tora?”_ _

__She looked up, and the way Loki was staring at her made something very painfully and very acute twist at the back of her mind, a feeling not unlike banging your head against a corner without warning. Her green eyes had a steady flame behind them, and too many secrets to be counted, all sorts of feelings that couldn’t have anything to do with Tora. “What?” she breathed, feeling lightheaded._ _

__There was a pause that felt much longer than it actually lasted._ _

__“Do not beat yourself up too much about it, okay?” she finally said, as if it was a request of the utmost importance._ _

__Head throbbing, Tora agreed, simply nodding._ _

__On the way out, Loki gave Fenrir the leftovers and poured him a bottle of water, sinking to her knees next to him and patting his ears. Instead of walking away, as she should be doing, Tora lingered, watching her and remembering the long speech about lying to your parents and the detailed consequences of it._ _

__She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what had happened to Loki._ _

__.  
.  
._ _

__The brunette watched Tora walk away in silence, one arm around Fenrir and the other hand playing with her Soul Gem ring. Her dog licked her face, nudging her with his nose._ _

__ “Well, that was it.” murmured Loki, pressing her cheek against his ear.  “She’s not as tick-headed as she might have been. Don’t you think?” she petted his neck affectionately and wildly, making him shake his head as if after a bath.  “You were a good boy, Fenrir. You were such a smart boy! But you are _always_ a smart boy.” she held him tighter against her chest. He barked, shaking his tail.  _ _

__ She had talked too much. _ _

__ Allowing herself a few moments of self-indulgence, Loki buried her face on Fenrir’s neck, frustrated. She had _said_ too much. She hadn’t meant to latch on such a detailed speech, but her feelings had gotten the best out of her brain – she remembered seeing it all happen, and even now it still made her furious beyond reason.  _ _

__ She hadn’t seen Carter yet, but Loki would bet her Soul Gem the girl was still as miserable as she had been when Loki left.  _ _

__ And Piper… _ _

__ Well, Piper was dead, wasn’t she? _ _

__ Fenrir licked her cheek again, barking to get her attention. Loki smiled and patted his neck before getting up.  “Fenrir, I want you to go back to Bibi. Mother has important business to attend to.” The dog whined, eyeing her with big watery eyes.  “Oh, I know, baby. But I don’t want to leave her alone at Stark’s house – you know how ill-tempered she can get. Can you do this for me? Hum? Can you do this for me?” She squeezed his face affectionately, scratching his ears. He barked.  “Oh yes, of course you can. Good boy, Fenrir. Good boy.” She tied the rest of the leftovers to his collar.  “Walk carefully, yes? There’s fish in there for Bibi. I will be home late.”  _ _

__ Licking her face one last time and waving his tail against her leg, Fenrir walked away steadily towards Stark’s home. Watching him go regretfully, Loki pulled out her Soul Gem. She hated being without Fenrir and Bibi, but right now they were probably better off waiting at home. _Specially_ Bitteline.  _ _

__ Pulling out her Magical Girl outfit, Loki followed Tora at a distance, a green and black blur disappearing in dark alleys.  _ _

__ .  
.  
. _ _

__ Staying up in geometry’s class had been a challenge even in her best days – today, after having to sit through Philly taking Brenna’s pressure and Quinn speculating if they should call the doctor and Nat asking her if she really couldn’t remember getting home last night, Stephanie was finding it positively _impossible_ to keep her eyes open. _ _

__ Next to her, Tora looked as bad as she felt. They had barely talked the day before, had actually barely seen each other. Now that Steph was paying attention, she could see Tora looked paler than before. Something had happened her friend hadn’t told her about. _ _

__ Sighing, she eyed Toni briefly. The girl was doodling again on her notebook, oblivious to the class, and doing that thing again – tapping her chest. Stephanie was beginning to get really irked about that particular habit. She had tried not to dwell on what that strange blue light meant, or why Toni kept tapping her chest and, most importantly, why it made that sound. But her curiosity was getting the best out of her. _ _

__ She tried focusing on the doddles instead. There were the usual schematics and math equations she couldn’t decipher – but now Toni was concentrated on a simpler form. It was round and looked tri-dimensional, thanks to her drawing skills. There was a star in the middle, surrounded by white and red circles. The girl leaned forward in her seat, trying to get a better look. The design looked strangely… _ _

__ Toni snapped her notebook shut and gave Steph a _look_. Blushing, the girl sat back and tried to concentrate on the class. She wasn’t very successful. _ _

__ Once the bell lunch rung, Stephanie hadn’t energy enough to go look for Peggy. Last night was still making her feel weird. Why should it bother her that Peggy and Toni were working together? That had been what she’d _wanted_ in the first place. _ _

__ Right? _ _

__ “I feel…” Tora muttered, tucked in a corner of the cafeteria next to Steph, pocking at her lunch. “What is it that Jean always says when she has cramps?” _ _

__ “That God hates her and there’s goblins trying to eat her uterus.” sighed the girl, drinking her juice almost unwillingly. _ _

__ “Yes.” she agreed, plainly. “That.” _ _

__ Stephanie rubbed her eyes. “Am I… am I the only one sick and tired of feeling like shit?” she asked, turning around to face Tora properly. “No, I mean it. I’m… look, I’m just tired of being depressed right now. Can we not be? Can we… I don’t know. I just want to move past this.” she concluded, trailing off and resting her back against the wall again. Tora considered this. _ _

__ “I met someone yesterday.” the girl finally replied, setting her fork down. _ _

__ “Who?” inquired Stephanie, curious.  _ _

__ “Her name was Loki.” replied Tora. “It’s a… long story.” _ _

__ “I want to hear it.” affirmed Steph, quietly.  _ _

__ Taking a deep breath, Tora begun retelling the events of the day before. She didn’t pause and her friend didn’t ask questions, listening to it in attentive silence. Tora told her about James, about wanting to contract, about Fury and all the blood, but specially Loki – with her unfathomable green eyes and unpredictable fire. _ _

__ Steph slipped closer to Tora once she finished and took a deep breath. “Need to tell you something, too.” _ _

__ “Does it have a connection to Brenna?” inquired the girl, smartly. Stephanie nodded, but before she could explain the rest of it, the bell rung loudly and they had to pack their things hurriedly. _ _

__ Toni was nowhere to be seen.  _ _

__ .  
.  
. _ _

__ The sun was setting by the time Tora and Stephanie managed to talk it all out. They played with their empty sundae cups, heads buzzing and mouths already dry again from the conversation. Tora rested her face against her hand. _ _

__ “I just do not know what to do, anymore,” she admitted, in a quiet voice that sounded almost devoid of emotion. _ _

__ Stephanie tapped the table worriedly. It now dawned on her how much worse Tora’s situation was if compared to hers. If she wanted to, Steph _could_ just pretend none of this had ever happened – but to her friend, avoiding the dangers of contracting meant losing the only chance she had of ever getting James’ back . _ _

__ She remembered Toni’s voice all too clearly in her head: _none of us lives long enough to worry about it._ _ _

__ “Do you…” she asked, self-consciously. “Do you think that all of what Loki was saying was true?” _ _

__ “You mean… if I think she lied?” deduced Tora, raising her eyes. She bit her lips. “Why would she lie?” _ _

__ Hating every word that left her lips, Steph suggested: “Maybe Toni told her to.” _ _

__ Her friend blinked, surprised, letting her hand drop. “Cap, I believed you trusted Antonia,” she stated, a slight tone of doubt in her voice. _ _

__ “I trust her. I do.” promised the girl, shifting uncomfortable and resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. “But Toni is… well, Toni is… she’s somewhat…” she stuttered, looking for the word. “Pushy?” _ _

__ “Pushy?” _ _

__ “Aggressive.” she admitted, exhaling. “Toni is aggressive. I mean, I suppose I can understand why, with her background and all, but… you know how she is.” _ _

__ Tora agreed, still waiting to pass judgment on Steph’s opinion. She went on: “She’s very set on keeping us from contracting, and I know she’s doing it for good reasons. But at the same time, remember what she was like when I _wanted_ to contract? She never respected my decision.” Finally finding a way to concisely express it, the girl said: “She is the kind of person who’ll do things _for our own good_. You understand what I mean?” _ _

__ The other girl stared at her friend in solemn silence, nodding slowly. “Yes, I do.” she agreed, thoughtfully. “She could have ordered Loki to lie to make sure we would never want to contract. That is very insightful of you, Steph. When did you two become so close?” _ _

__ Stephanie blushed. “We aren’t.” she opened her mouth, closed it, then went on anyway. “I don’t think I really understand Toni at all. But with some things… is as if I’m already expecting them to be there. You know like when you already know there’s a next step when you’re climbing a stair?” _ _

__ Tora agreed lowly, rolling the sundae cup between her hands. “It is peculiar,” she murmured, without looking up. “I feel a similar way about Loki.” _ _

__ Her friend’s mouth fell into a small “o”. “You do?” she asked, leaning forward eagerly. Her friend nodded. _ _

__ “Perhaps it is merely because she is young.” considered Tora, remembering. “But Loki is similar to Antonia in some ways. She has much anger. Intense, bone-deep anger. And it has made her strong.” The girl took a breath. “Still…” _ _

__ -Loki looks up at her and the turmoil of emotions flickering through the green takes Tora off guard. It’s hard to stare at this girl. It’s hard just being around her. But there’s a flicker of genuine care right now, as if it really does matter to her, somehow, somewhat, that Tora won’t feel bad about this whole situation, as if---- _ _

__ She shook her head. “I do believe she used to be kind. Kinder than she wanted to be, maybe.” _ _

__ “So do _you_ think she’s lying?” _ _

__ “I think” murmured Tora, choosing her worlds carefully, “that Loki believes every last word she said.” _ _

__ Stephanie promptly understood what her friend was trying to say. She remained silent, wishing Fury was here to offer some answers – or Peggy, maybe, but Peggy…  _ _

__ No. She missed Peggy. She did wish she was here. And that they could actually talk about all that’d been happening. It was a lot easier saying than doing, though. _ _

__ _“Did your girls called me?”_ _ _

__ Tora begun swearing. Stephanie jumped. “Fury?” _ _

__ The panther walked calmly towards them, jumping on the booth next to Tora. “I heard you calling my name, but I guess you were just thinking about it really hard. Should I go, then?” _ _

__ They looked at each other. “No,” answered the girl, slowly. “No, I think… I believe we should talk about Loki.” _ _

__ Fury sighed, sitting back as if getting ready for a long conversation. “I’m expecting she had a lot to say about Magical Girls.” _ _

__ Tora glanced at Stephanie again. “Quite a lot,” she agreed. “But she did make valid points, Fury. You did not even tell us your real name.” _ _

__ “I don’t have a ‘real name’ the way humans conceive it,” objected the panther, evenly. “We don’t have such a big sense of individuality for them to be necessary. I told Peggy that when she contracted, and she preferred having something to call me by. So she came up with Fury. By all accounts, that is my real name.” _ _

__ The girls “oh-ed” slowly, as the explanation made perfect sense. Stephanie fidgeted. _ _

__ “But, you know,” she said, a bit embarrassed. “I thought about it before, too, Fury. Loki is only thirteen. And we are… we are a bit young, too.” She bit her lips. “Why do you only contract with teenage girls?” _ _

__ “I contract with boys, too,” denied Fury, still calmly. “That’s just rarer.” _ _

__ “But why _teenagers?”_ _ _

__ He sighed. “Because it’s necessary.” He jumped on the table to stand between the two of them and proceeded: “To fight Witches, you need a Soul Gem. I can’t create a proper Soul Gem out of wishes made by older people. They are not as powerful as you are.” He sighed again, tiredly. “If young girls don’t step up to the task, there’s no one to defeat Witches. I told Loki that, but she has… issues of her own to deal with.” _ _

__ Stephanie saw Tora tensing, almost as if that had been a personal accusation. “What kind of issues?” she demanded, almost urgently. “I mean… I do not want to know anything she would not tell me herself, but…” _ _

__ Fury seemed to consider it for a moment. Steph was watching her friend instead of him – she was reacting strongly to this. Loki, Toni, Peggy, they sure seemed to be having a disproportionate effect on them. _ _

__ “Well,” finally answered the panther, thoughtfully. “Previous to even meeting me, Loki had a series of problems with her family. When she contracted, she had just made a horrible mistake that worsened things even more.” Tora’s eyes widened as each new word reached her eyes. “I don’t think she thought her wish through. It had unexpected implications, and caused the situation to fall apart. Ever since then she has resented me.” _ _

__ Steph bit her lips, watching her friend attentively. The two versions of the story fit remarkably well once you thought about it. _ _

__ “So is that how it is.” murmured Tora, lowly. Fury nodded. _ _

__ “It’s very hard arguing with Loki.” he pointed out, knowledgeably. “She’s stubborn and exceptionally good with words. And she holds a very low opinion of me.” _ _

__ The girl fell silent after that, looking through the window. Stephanie took a deep breath and asked before she could lose the will: “Fury, how’s Peggy?” _ _

__ The panther turned towards her. “Peggy is fine,” he said, unflappably. “She’s Hunting with Antonia right as we speak. Why do you want to know?” _ _

__ She blushed, taken aback. “For nothing.” Turning to her friend, the girl changed subject quickly, “Let’s pay for these and get going?” _ _

__ Tora sighed, picking her bag up from the floor. “Yes,” she agreed. “Let us go.” _ _

__ .  
.  
. _ _

__ Jean and Philly were undergoing what Steph begrudgingly nicknamed _Mama Bear Fit_. As in they knew something was up with her and Stephanie, not to mention sleepwalker Brenna, but didn’t have enough proof to bring up the subject. So they only watched them with obvious worry, even though they were sure they were faking well. _ _

__ “If she calls my mother, I’m busted.” secreted Steph over dinner preparations, chopping onions swiftly. Tora was washing lettuce. _ _

__ “Do you believe she will?” she doubted, taking a peek at them on the living room. Quinn was sitting on the floor, leaning against Philly’s legs, and Jean was staring intently at her notebook.  
“Hmmm, not sure.” admitted the girl. Tora put the lettuce on a bowl. _ _

__ “I think I will go on a walk after dinner.” she commented, simply, feeling her friend’s stare on the back of her head. _ _

__ “Where to?” inquired Stephanie, a hint of worry in her voice. She bit her lip, going to put the bowl on the table to buy time. “Tora?” insisted Steph, gently, going around her. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said, “but I also don’t want you to feel you have to keep secrets from me.” _ _

__ The girl sighed and smiled at her. “Thank you, Steph.” she murmured, tugging at a braid. “Actually, I was hoping to… to check on Loki.” _ _

__ “Lo… Oh, _shit,”_ cursed Stephanie, hushing back to the oven to lower the fire before the water boiled over. “Loki?” she repeated, looking over her shoulder. “You must be really worried about her, aren’t you, Tora?” _ _

__ “Yes,” admitted the girl, leaning on the counter. “What about you and Peggy?” _ _

__ She hesitated, stirring the noodles absently. “I _want_ to talk to her.” she whispered, looking down. “But I don’t know how.” _ _

__ Tora eyed her carefully. “Why not?” _ _

__ “I’m not sure.” confessed Steph, shaking the pan to fry the onions . “It was weird last time we saw each other. I told you, remember?” _ _

__ The girl hesitated before saying: “I think Peggy might be jealous of Antonia.” Stephanie raised her eyes. “Because Antonia saved you, and she could do nothing.” _ _

__ “Peggy knows I don’t care about that!” she protested, immediately. _ _

__ “I know,” soothed Tora, gently. “But if the roles were switched, it would bother you, would it not?” _ _

__ Stephanie looked down again. “Yeah…” she admitted, uneasily. “But Peggy really has no reasons to be jealous of Toni.” _ _

__ “Does she really?” _ _

__ Steph blushed hard, biting her lips even harder. “I don’t know.”  _ _

__ The conversation drifted off, then. _ _

__ Tora could only manage to slip through the back door very late, because the girls wouldn’t lower their guards; she had to pretend to go to sleep and wait for all of them to have finally gone to bed. Stephanie stayed up, too, pretending to be completely passed out until she was sure Jean was sleeping, at which point she warned her friend. Tora closed the door very softly, going around the house on her socks and stopping only at the street corner to finally put on her sneakers. A few minutes of waiting passed by until Fury finally appeared, walking along the fence to Tora’s right. _ _

__ “You wanted to talk to me?” inquired the panther, sitting down. His tail twitched hypnotically. _ _

__ “Actually, I wanted to see Loki.” explained the girl, zipping up her hoodie. “Do you know where she is?” _ _

__ “Loki is staying with Antonia for the moment, I think.” replied Fury, helpfully. “I’m not very welcome in there, so I can’t be sure. But they were out Hunting tonight, and I think I remember Loki mentioning she wasn’t going home right away.” _ _

__ “Can you help me look for her?” asked Tora, offering her arms to the panther. He jumped into them. _ _

__ “Of course.” _ _

__ The aimless walk was short – soon Fury informed the girl he’d spotted Loki and they changed directions towards a 24 hour dinner smashed between a dry cleaner and a bank. It being one at the mourning, it was nearly empty, only a handful of people sitting by themselves, little to no conversation going around.  _ _

__ Tora spotted Loki immediately. _ _

__ The girl was sitting alone by the window, surrounded by dozens of food plates completely covering her table. They had been arranged almost artistically, with the salty ones nearer her and the desserts by the edges of the table. Loki was still in the same clothes she had been in yesterday, except her hair was now braided down her back. It took some time for Tora to realize what was bothering her about the scene.  
Loki was sitting too stiffly. She wasn’t even resting her back on the bench, or crossing her arms over the table. In fact, she was eating fries almost mechanically, focusing on the task as if nothing else existed. Tora knew people who had starved at some point frequently became really neurotic about food – and it was the second time in two days she saw Loki eating an amount three times what her stomach should be able to hold.  _ _

__ As she watched, the girl stopped eating the fries and slowly touched the braid, falling down over her shoulder. Then, in a fit of sudden anger, she tore the elastic off it and unmade the braid harshly. Her dark hair was wavy because of it and it fell around her face. Her shoulders sagged and she leaned against the seat, pulling her knees up against her chest. She grabbed a hamburger off her plate and ate it curled into herself – the movement made her sweater slip off. There was a dark, red-and-purple bruise around her neck. Fenrir was nowhere to be seen. _ _

__ Loki seemed utterly, agonizingly and hopelessly lonely. _ _

__ Tora held Fury tighter. _ _

__ “Fury?” she called, in a tight voice. “What is that around her neck?” _ _

__ “I believe Loki got hurt earlier today while hunting.” informed the panther, coolly. _ _

__ “The Witch tried to strangle her?” concluded the girl, never tearing her eyes from Loki. _ _

__ “A Familiar, actually, but yes.” confirmed Fury, struggling a bit in her arms. She loosened her grip. _ _

__ “Why did she not cure it?” whispered Tora, remembering the day when they met Peggy and she cured Fury with her Soul Gem. _ _

__ “I’m not sure.” admitted Fury. “But she’s been fighting Familars off the entire day. Most likely she didn’t get any Grief Seeds. Her Soul Gem must be polluted, and she doesn’t want to waste her magic.” The panther licked a paw. “That’d be an informed guess.” _ _

__ “I see.” _ _

__ Loki was now eating what looked like a meat pie, not even bothering to use a fork – instead she was licking her fingers between bites.  _ _

__ _She is only thirteen_ , thought Tora, crouching to put Fury down. What could she have done that had been so bad? What had she wanted to fix so badly she’d contracted for it? And had it been worth it? To spend the night sitting by herself eating until she threw up, with a horrible bruise around her neck? _ _

__ No. Of course it hadn’t. Loki said so herself. Contracting had ruined her life. _ _

__ Still looking directly ahead at the girl, Tora squared her shoulders. “Fury?” _ _

__ “Yes?” the panther looked up from the ground, dark eyes reflecting the lamp light. _ _

__ The girl drew a deep breath. “I have a wish to make.” _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so looking forward to be able to write Loki! This fic, after all, did begin with a Loki-Feels Fest, in which me and dear beta decided Loki was a Magical Girl.


	6. "What Did You Do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: character death. Discussions of depression, and the emotional and physical consequences of being a "child soldier". Portrayal of mental illness. Mild injuries and violence.

Stephanie wished she could’ve talked to Tora before she left this morning, but her friend was long gone by the time she woke up. Steph had no way of knowing how long Tora had stayed up the night before, but apparently, she had gotten up, baked her cinnamon rolls and left for the hospital as if nothing had happened. 

Worry and curiosity were eating at her insides in equal measures.

Raising her head to check how many stations away she was now, the girl fixed the strap of the thermo bag over her shoulder. She wondered when Quinn had found the time to make pudding. The girl seemed to produce food out of nowhere sometimes. Stephanie had avoided asking, but she’d picked up enough information – parents she couldn’t rely on to get food on the table, an older brother that would steal what he could get his hands on and years and years of trying to make do, of trying to make stale food a bit more appetizing.

Her cooking was really awesome.

She finally reached her station and got up, holding the bag carefully to avoid the contents spilling inside. It was getting colder now, and Stephanie was grateful for it. Walking in the sun gave her a headache.

She turned the corner and felt as if she had finally managed to swallow through a stone in her throat. She could see her parents from here, already, impatiently waiting for her on the front door. Sarah’s light brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her eyes had that cleanness on them that only came with a good night’s sleep. Her father was standing next to her, looking like a male version of herself. Even their taste in clothes was similar, if that made any sense. 

“Stephanie!” beamed her mother, as soon as she spotted her, climbing down the steps. Smiling largely, the girl ran the last few yards and threw herself in her mother’s arms, letting the woman squeeze her. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, mom” she greeted, her eyes watery. The woman was beginning to back away, but Steph held on, digging her fingers on her back. Sarah hesitated, passing her fingers through her daughter’s hair.

“Stephanie?” she asked, carefully. “Is everything all right, honey?”

“No,” admitted the girl, without looking up. “Not very good, mom.”

She felt the woman look up and exchange a look with her father. “Let’s go inside, then.” he suggested, putting an arm over her shoulder. “Hi there, kiddo.”

“Hi, dad,” she smiled, automatically, letting him steer herself inside. “Quinn sent pudding.” she added, randomly.

Lunch was actually really nice. They ate lasagna, so much Stephanie thought she wasn’t going to eat again for the rest of her life. Her parents avoided asking any question until the pudding had been served, the dishes washed and everyone ended up in the living room watching baseball, at which point her father had begun telling so many jokes her belly was hurting.

“So, how’s school, Steph?” inquired her mother, gently, when her dad went out for groceries. Sarah had insisted on brushing her hair once she noticed Jean’s ribbon.

Stephanie took a deep breath. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“It’s possible to like two people at the same time?”

The woman hesitated, putting down the brush. She looked at her kid through the mirror, attentively. “You mean ‘like’ as in…?”

“Yes.” confirmed the girl, biting her lip. 

“Well,” Sarah smiled, getting up and sitting next to her. “Who are the lucky boys?”

Stephanie’s heart darted in her chest. She twisted the fabric of her shorts, tensely, her palms sweating. “Actually…” she begun, swallowing. “Actually…” 

“Honey?” murmured the woman, worriedly, pulling her hair out of the way. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Well, actually…” staring straight at her knees, she said in a tiny voice: “actually it’s… two lucky _girls…_ not guys.”

“Oh.” Sarah dragged the syllable slowly, her eyes widening slightly. “Girls.”

“Does it bother you?” asked the girl, the words tumbling from her mouth hurriedly, raising her eyes.

“What? Stephanie!” the woman pulled her in a hug. “Of course not! No! It doesn’t matter to me at all whom you choose to love, as long as they’re good people and make you happy. Oh, honey,” she kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for telling me.”

Steph let out a long breath, sniffling a bit. It felt as if all her strings had been cut off. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for some time.” she admitted, shyly. “I mean, especially after meeting Quinn and Philly. I suspected it before, but… I wasn’t sure.” she pulled back a bit to look her mother in the eyes. “I talked a lot to them about that. I thought for a while I might be, ahm, bi? Like Quinn and Nat? But now I am not that set on that, anymore. I guess I just… like girls. And, either way…”

Sarah adjusted her grip on her daughter, so she could rest her head against her shoulder, and patted her head lovingly. “And either way…?” she encouraged, gently.

“Well, hum.” Steph sighed. “There’s… there’s these girls I met…” she bit her lips, wondering how she could tell the story without mentioning Witches. “Well, there’s Peggy. Peggy Carter.”

“She’s really brave, mom. And very good at what she does. And she’s smart, and witty and, you know… she’s beautiful. I even feel a bit light headed when I’m with her. And she goes to my school, but she’s older than me. So, hm, she… she asked me out. _I think_ she was asking me out, anyway. I was going to ask her if it was a date, _date_ , but then I didn’t and, well… we had a fight. Actually, more like Toni, Peggy and I had a fight.”

“Toni?” interrupted her mother, raising one eyebrow. “I don’t remember anyone named Toni.”

“It’s short for Antonia.” explained Stephanie, shifting because her spine was beginning to hurt. “She’s a transfer student. She was in the hospital for a long time. And she’s brave, too. And funny. And she’s really strong, and, you know, _intense_. But she can be very rude, and so she and Peggy got into a fight, and I stepped between them, and Peggy ended up saying… something to me… I’m considerably sure she didn’t mean.”

“All right.” Sarah’s bow was furrowed, as she attempted to piece all the babble together into something that made sense. “I’m keeping up for now. And then what happened?”

“Well, and then I hung out with Toni for a while.” explained the girl. “But now I really, _really_ want to talk to Peggy, to make up, but…” she sat up, backing away from the embrace. “But last time we met, it was super awkward, and I think it was because she was jealous of Toni. And I can’t tell her she doesn’t have to be jealous, because…” she halted, choking on the words.

“Because you like Toni, too?” filled in her mother, comprehensively.

“Yeah,” breathed Steph, blushing. “So now I don’t know how to establish a conversation, or what I should say to her if I do, and if we patch things up, then what should I tell _Toni?_ To be honest, I’m not even sure Toni likes me that way.” she bit her lips. “I mean, can I even really like two people at the same time?”

_And what do I do about the fact they could both be dead tomorrow by all I know?_

“Honey, _of course_ you can like two people at the same time.” replied her mom, very surely and kindly. “You’re not a comic book character. You have many layers. Of course you won’t find just _one_ person who’s going to fit you perfectly in all ways possible. You’ll find many people that’ll fit in many different ways. And just because you’re in love with someone, doesn’t mean you suddenly stop being able to love other people.” she chuckled a bit. “That doesn’t even make sense, does it?”

“When you say it like that, it really doesn’t.” agreed Stephanie, smiling a bit. “Where did you learn all of that?”

“I had a polyamorous friend in college,” explained her mother, winking at her. “Tanya, was her name. She and her boyfriends were very happy together.”

“How did that work?” asked the girl, intrigued, leaning forward.

“Well, I knew Tanya from the first day of class, and she had been dating Felix for quite a while. So then she met…” she stopped, tapping her chin while trying to remember. “Keith, I think? Yes, he was named Keith and he worked in a nearby coffee shop. And he and Tanya became incredibly close. So she introduced him to Felix, and then _they_ became close… I’m not sure how they worked out the specifics. But I remember it worked as if all of them were dating all of them. Tanya always used to say that they got double the love and double the relationship talks.”

“Wow,” breathed Stephanie, impressed. She passed her fingers through her hair. “So that means it’s okay if I like them both?”

“Honey, you’re fifteen.” pointed out Sarah. “By all means, it’s okay.”

“But then, what do I say to Peggy? Or Toni?” insisted Steph, worriedly. She felt remarkably stupid for being here asking girl questions when there was Tora, and Loki, and Witches out there, all matters of much more importance. Still. She was at a loss.

“The truth, I dare say.” replied her mother. “Tell Peggy what you told me. That you like her, and you want to make peace. Tell her that liking Toni doesn’t mean what you feel for her is any less important.” she stopped, considering. “Tell her you don’t know who you want to be with, now. Tell Toni that, too. It’s not a marathon. You have plenty of time to get to know them, and your feelings for them, better.”

Why did everything sound so much simpler when her mother said it? Really. Stephanie didn’t think it was completely fair. “Saying that to Toni might be a challenge.”

“Really?” Sarah arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Steph sighed, frustrated. “She’s impossible.” she mumbled, simply.

Her mother giggled, hugging her by the waist and landing a kiss on her forehead. It was about then the phone rang. “Let me get that,” said the woman, getting up. A short talk afterward she called out: “Steph, it’s Philly for you!”

“Philly?” repeated the girl, apprehensive. She took the phone from her mother and pressed it against her ear. _“Philly? Is everything okay?”_

 _“Everything is more than okay!”_ replied her roommate, cheerily. “ _You won’t believe it, Steph! Dr. Selving just called to let us know!”_

Stephanie’s blood run cold. _“Dr. Selving?”_

 _“Yeah,”_ agreed Philly, nearly out of breath. _“It’s James! The hospital called to tell him, and he was trying to tell Tora, but she beat him to it, of course.”_

 _“Just tell her already!”_ hissed someone in the back, probably Quinn.

_“I am, Barton, stop trying to take the phone! Steph, James got his memories back!”_

_Oh, fuck._ thought Steph, nearly dropping the phone.

.  
.  
.

James opened his eyes, but the world didn’t come into focus.

It was as if he was waking up a hundred times at once. There were memories upon memories pressing against his conscience, claiming his attention, every single one as real and present as the other. Even his vision was blurry, the objects on the night stand just different colorful spots. His ears were ringing. It was hard to find the right muscles to move his body.

 _What day is it?_ wondered the boy, groggy. _Where am I? What time is it…?_

He struggled to put his thoughts in order. Blinking and rubbing his eyes he finally managed to clear his vision. He recognized what he was seeing: the lamp, his notebook and pencil, an assortment of candy wrappers and a clock. That was familiar. At the same time it was wrong, mismatched and foreign. Where was that goofy half-orange-shaped clock with stuffed legs (that Darcy had given him)? Where were the pictures (of him and Tora on the Ice Cream shop, of his parents, of Dr. Selving and him when he won the spelling context)? 

_What day is it?_

He tried to remember the day before. But the “day before” seemed to have been many different days. The day before he had taken Tora to the movies. The day before his dad burned the pizza. The day before he was cramming for a test. The day before Darcy slept over because he had a nasty fight at home. The day before he…

…tagged along on Tora’s family trip.

That memory seemed stronger, spicier, and it tugged at his conscience, demanding attention. That’s right. Tora had invited him to join them on their camping trip. James could share a tent with Mr. Odinson and Tora and her mom would share another, she had said. Darcy had annoyed him senseless with barely subtextual innuendos. His girlfriend had _helped him_ , so what exactly could he do about it? 

But that was, you know, Tora. It took a herculean effort to make her blush in embarrassment at this kind of thing. She could curse better than most guys he knew, and the one time he’d seen someone trying to cat-call her, they had ended up in the police station, where a policewoman had let them off easy because she agreed the guy in question had deserved it. 

And that had happened the day before, too.

The day before, he’d sat next to her on the car, and Tora spoke non-stop of family stories and hunting trips and all they had planned for this summer, when she would finally be old enough to accompany her relatives. They had arrived at the camping, set up tents and gathered wood, and he’d told Tora he’d explore a bit, and she told him to be careful where he stepped…

…he got lost…?

And he tried to go through the bushes and…

…he lost his footing.

James sat up startled, clutching at the sheets, his body jerking as if falling. He’d fallen. Yes, he’d fallen off… and then… and then everything became so fuzzy.

That hadn’t been yesterday, though, had it?

That had been…

Oh my God, he had no idea.

He remembered Tora. His dad. Darcy. Those he remembered the most, but it all seemed so fragmented. The pieces wouldn’t fit to form a linear timespan. They didn’t fit for some reason. Thinking harder, James tried to focus in only one. A most recent one popped up. Tora brought him homemade cinnamon rolls – wait, that couldn’t be, when had Tora learned to make them? – and they talked about her school – but didn’t he know about her school already? But didn’t Tora go to the same school as him? When had she transferred?

And why were there thousands of memories like this, floating unconnected around?

James finally examined his surroundings. A hospital room, familiar, and yet not, as if he had never paid attention. Why was he in a hospital room? The answer flashed rapidly before his eyes: he’d been transferred here when his condition failed to improve in any way. Tora had cried. He remembered it. Why hadn’t he solaced her? Why had he patted her head awkwardly and asked what the problem was? Why hadn’t she laid her head in his lap the way she always did?

…but what condition were they talking about?

And suddenly, like someone had plugged his brain on, the frail link that connected all of those lonely memories sparked into life. 

They seemed all disconnected because James _kept forgetting about them._

“Shit.” he cursed, tossing the blankets aside. Still swearing rather pathetically – he was never as good at it as Tora or Darcy – he ran to the door still barefoot and in his crumply pajamas and threw it open hurriedly. “Nurse! Is there anyone…”

The words died in his throat.

Tora was there, her hand reaching to where the door knob had been, staring at James with surprise. She was holding a paper bag with the other hand. She was still taller than him.

“Tora?” breathed James, his heart speeding up even more.

The girl made a strangled noise, as if someone had kicked her in the guts. Her eyes watered faster than he’d ever seen them do before. “You remember who I am?” she whispered, in a hoarse voice.

He felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. “I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, “I’m so sorry I forgot you, Tora, I…”

The last of the sentence was lost. She had grabbed his face and kissed him. After that, maintaining a rational trail of thought became impossible. So instead he pulled her inside and kissed her as if the world was ending tomorrow.

.  
.  
.

“You could have just _asked me.”_

“Shut up, Stark. I don’t need your charity.”

“Charity?“ repeated Toni, raising her eyes at Loki, angrily. “Laufeyson, I am all out of fucks to give about charity. I don’t do soup lines.” she carefully maneuvered Loki’s arm out of her sweater, making the young girl hiss in pain. “But if you go around with a shitty arm like this, chances are _both_ of us get killed. And dying? Not so much my thing.”

“It’s only sprained, for fuck’s sake!” snapped the girl, impatient. “It’s nothing to fuss about. I can still fight perfectly fine.”

Antonia stared at her. “I will eat my own liver if this isn’t hurting like a bitch.”

“So what?” hissed Loki, threateningly. “I can deal with pain.”

“It’s a weakness!” hissed the older girl, fuming. “It’s distracting! Just fucking tell me when your Soul Gem is too polluted, Laufeyson, I don’t have time to babysit you.”

“Exactly how big is the stick you have up your ass?” complained the girl, when Toni begun examining her elbow. “And why are you doing that? Do you know _anything_ about first aid at all?”

“Oh, not at all,” answered Toni, her voice as sarcastic as humanly possible. “I survived this long as a Magical Girl because I never even bothered to Google ‘first-aid’.” she raised her eyebrows at Loki. “Do you think I’m stupider than you?”

“I think,” replied Loki, in an ice-cold voice, looking her in the eye. “That you are conceited, self-obsessed and so reckless it’s nearly suicidal.”

Toni smirked. “Aren’t you?”

“Takes one to recognize one. _FUCK!”_ shrieked the girl, yet managing to stay still. “Would you be _careful!”_

“Then shut your pie hole and let me heal it.” she mumbled, holding Loki’s arm still with one hand and unbuttoning her shirt with the other. The younger girl shot her a completely weirded out look, and Toni could feel as much as see as she prepared to hit her if necessary, punch her in the face, call out for Fenrir and Bitteline right outside the bathroom, transform and run for it. “Stop that, I’m not going to hurt you.”

By then, Loki caught sight of what Antonia had been reaching for and immediately stared at it like a wolf spotting a rabbit. Toni pressed against the center of the light circle, and it whirred, moving and revealing the midnight-blue ring that was her Soul Gem. The older girl saw as Loki’s eyes darted, barely, to her hand, where a blue ring was also clearly outlined. She asked no questions, but the gleam and intelligence that showed in her eyes were enough.

Toni took the ring out of the device it rested on, and it immediately reassumed the Jewel form. She brought it close to Loki’s arm, where it glowed brightly for a moment. The younger girl tried to hide it, but the relief that radiated through her body was obvious. 

After only a second of hesitation, Toni brought the gem back into the device in her chest, securely strapped against her skin by letter belts, putting it away without healing the bruises on her companion’s throat.

“Don’t go getting any funny ideas.” she warned, buttoning her shirt.

“Do you think I’m stupider than you?” replied Loki, a sharp edge to her eyes. “You wouldn’t have showed it if you thought I could steal it.”

“Is your arm all right?” replied Toni, simply, opening the door. Fenrir and Bitteline came in immediately, as if it brought them physical pain to be kept separated from her.

“It’s fine.”

The older girl nodded and exited the bathroom. Loki watched her with suspicious eyes. Antonia knew far too much and talked far too little. Right now, they had a bigger threat to face. How could Toni know about Walpurgis Night to begin with was another thing Loki wished she knew – of course she had heard about it, rumors and stories. Piper had tried to frighten her by telling those stories in the dark, myths she heard from Peggy, who heard them from Charlie who heard them from a variety of sources. That it was the strongest Witch to ever exist. That it brought natural disaster in its wake. That it had killed a thousand Magical Girls. It was about then that Loki told Piper to shut up, heart heavy and tight with all the things she never had the will to tell her.

She hadn’t believed it up until now. But it seemed to be true. And Antonia knew so much – not only that it would come, but when it would, and where, and how. She knew far too much. But Loki didn’t want the city destroyed any more than Stark did. So she stayed, and helped, and didn’t ask too many questions. Yet.

And there was Tora to consider. 

Sighing and picking Bibi up, she stood and walked towards her room. She better go check on that fool.

.  
.  
.

Tora was feeling extremely sappy and more than a bit silly, but for some reason or another, they couldn’t stop staring at each other.

They talked, of course. Barely could shut up, actually, once they finally mustered the will to let go of each other long enough to regain more than a wisp or air.

“Tora,” panted James, his arms still around her waist. “Tora, I’m _so sorry.”_

“Nonsense.” replied the girl, immediately. “It was not your fault. You did no wrong at all.”

“But I _remember.”_ groaned the boy, closing his eyes. “Every time you came I wouldn’t remember you, and I was so _stupid._ I didn’t even realize when you were hurting.”

“That is not true.” insisted Tora, firmly. “You did realize. You paid attention. You noticed.”

“Not as much as I should have.” he replied, looking fiercely in her eyes. “You never stopped coming.”

“I would not.” 

“I know.” James gave her a little, twitchy smile, then widened his eyes. “Darcy? Is Darcy still in town?”

“I believe so, he did not warn me otherwise,” confirmed the girl, smiling widely.

“My father?”

“We can call him.”

“No.” he let a deep breath out. “No, not right now. I mean, I know I should… I know it’s not… but I… I need a moment to catch my breath.”

“Of course. I understand,” agreed Tora, nodding eagerly. He looked up at her with warm gratitude and her heart swelled painfully. “I missed you _so dearly.”_

James pulled her in again and they stood hugging. Usually, this would be when the boy reminded her to ease on the grip a little, but not today. “I brought cinnamon rolls,” remarked the girl, teary, and he chuckled.

“I can’t believe you learned to make them.” he remarked, affectionately. “You’ve gotten much better.”

“Stop using comparatives.” said Tora, gulping. “Really, it is… overwhelming.”

He nodded, understanding at once. “Can I try one?” he asked, nodding to the bag on the girl’s hand.

After eating all of them, however, there was no way anymore of avoiding comparatives – James’ memories were very fragmented and consistently lacking any distinctive time frame. They laid on the bed facing each other and talked until their mouths ran dry, and then more afterwards, trying to patch the sorted memories into an understandable whole. Eventually, when the words ran out for the moment and they finally warned the Hospital Staff, they just stayed where they were, the sheets a tangled mess from flapping around so much… and stared at each other. It was as if they were physically incapable of looking away.

“Why are _you_ staring?” finally asked Tora, too happy to think straight. “I know why I am.”

“Why are you, then?” he replied, grinning widely.

“I asked first.”

“Fair enough.” the boy shifted, leaning on an elbow. “It’s just that this past year I never _paid attention._ It’s like I’m seeing you again just now.” he nudged her playfully. “And you are _still_ taller than me.”

“I will _always_ be taller than you.” she teased, smugly. He chuckled. 

“Your turn.”

“It is nothing.” replied Tora, quietly. “I just like…” she sighed. “I like that you recognize me, now.”

His eyes softened. He leaned forward and kissed her again – she closed his eyes and kissed back, slowly. It felt as if the universe had rewind, back to before the accident, back before she heard James screaming and couldn’t find him, back before she’d sat at the hospital until her bones hurt, waiting for good news, bad news, any news…

His hand cupped her cheek and the bad memories vanished once again into thin dust.

The rest of the day was exhausting in its eventfulness. Once they eventually remembered there was more to the world then themselves, they had to warn the hospital staff of James’ improved condition. Everything became chaotic and erratic from then on, and Tora mostly made do with exchanging far-away glances with her boyfriend while he was checked over and over by the doctors and held by his father tight enough to purple his face.

It wasn’t until the sun began to set she even gave thought to the other side of the situation. And even then, she was only reminded of it by the loud ring of her cellphone. Excusing herself and hurrying out of the room, she pulled it from her pocket without checking the number.

“Hello?”

_“What the fuck, Tora?!”_

She flinched, recoiling automatically. For Stephanie to answer the phone by swearing, she must have been really worked up. _“Stephanie?”_

 _“James got back his memories?”_ hissed the girl. _“James got back HIS MEMORIES? Did it happen by itself, Tora?”_

_“Well…”_

_“You CONTRACTED.”_ her voice went up several pitches. _“You FUCKING CONTRACTED! After everything that happened! After Peggy, and Loki, and God damn it, I don’t even know anymore! Just like THAT, Tora? And you didn’t even TELL ME? Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?”_

She took a few steps away from the door, making sure no one was listening. Putting a hand over her mouth and keeping an alert ear, she tried to explain herself. _“Steph…”_

 _“I almost had a HEART ATTACK! Do you have any idea what it was LIKE?”_ marched on her friend, not listening. _“Philly called me out of nowhere, all happy and rejoicing and giving me this super awesome good news and I had to LIE TO MY MOM and get out of there while trying to explain to Philly why I didn’t sound happy WHEN I WAS FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. What happened?! Why did you DO IT? What. The. FUCK. Tora?!”_

 _“I am sorry!”_ replied Tora, raising her voice just to interrupt the monologue. _“I would have talked to you, but it was somewhat of a last minute…”_

_“WHAT?”_

_“Not like that!”_ hurried the girl, mentally cursing. _“Not like that! I meant…”_ she took a deep breath, shaking herself. _“Steph, I wanted to contract for a long time. I wanted James back. I knew I had to do it, but I…” she leaned against the wall. “But I could not bring myself to make the decision. There was always something lingering. But last night…”_

She closed her eyes, remembering with painful clarity. Loki sitting by herself, looking even paler than usual under the white lights, with dark bruises around her neck. The adoring expression on her face when she talked to Fenrir. The barely contained anger that boiled under her skin.

 _“Last night…?”_ encouraged Stephanie, her voice even, now.

 _“Last night, I felt sure of what I needed to do.”_ and lower, almost wishing her friend wouldn’t listen, she added: _“James is not the only one who needed me.”_

 _“God, Tora,”_ Steph sighed deeply, as if her joints were coming apart. _“I can’t even… I mean, I got so absolutely freaked out… where are you now?”_

_“At the hospital.”_

_“With James?”_

Tora smiled despite herself. _“Yes.”_

Her friend sighed more deeply on the other end of the line. _“I’m coming back from my parent’s house. The hospital is closer, can I meet you there?”_

 _“Of course,”_ agreed the girl, relaxing promptly. _“The visiting hours are ending, in any way. I will meet you on the front gate, will that do?”_

_“Okay. I’ll be there in five.”_

_“Okay. I will see you, then. Goodbye.”_

_“Bye.”_

Pressing the _end_ button, Tora smiled to herself and closed her eyes for a moment, just savoring the cleansing feeling of peace that bubbled softly inside her chest. Letting out a long puff of air, she went back inside to say goodbye to James and his dad. For now. Just for now.

Stephanie arrived shortly after the girl left James’ room, walking down the street towards her with an empty thermos bag on one shoulder and an honestly worried expression on her face. She stopped in front of Tora and examined her face carefully, as if looking for signs of sickness, or as if trying to memorize her face. There was a faint trace of wonder in her eyes.

Smiling softly and leaning away from the hospital’s gate, Tora reached out, taking her friend’s hands between her own.

“Stephanie,” she called, slightly berating, squeezing her fingers. “I have not changed, my friend.”

“I know. I… I know.” answered Steph, dropping her eyes and raising them again. “I just…” she bit her lips. “I can’t believe you actually did it. I…” she turned her hand over to see the Soul Gem mark and ring on it. “Tora, are you sure this was the best decision to make?”

“Yes.” affirmed Tora, softly, serene. She smiled reassuringly. “Steph, I have everything I could possibly want. I have James. But I also have you.” seeing the girl’s confusion, she explained herself: “do you not see? All that Loki has been through, and Peggy, and Antonia… it must have been truly awful being by themselves. Loki’s wish had terrible consequences. Antonia has seen people die. But I am not alone.” Her grin became wider. “I am not alone by any expense. I have you, and I have them. I will bear through.” After a moment of hesitation, a more serious expression took over her features. She squeezed one more time and added, solemnly: “And I will not lie.”

“You won’t lie?” Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “So you mean you’re going to tell people you are a Magical Girl?”

“Not _people,”_ corrected the girl, promptly. “My parents. James. They have the right to know. Maybe the girls. I will think carefully about.” she bumped Steph’s shoulder with her own. “So you see? I am _fine,_ my friend.”

Still feeling apprehensive, she managed to conjure a smile. “Yeah, I know that,” agreed Stephanie, going on tiptoe to hug Tora. “But I still get worried.”

Tora hugged back, lifting her off the ground. “And I am thankful for that.” she answered, heartfelt, before setting her friend back on her feet.

Sighing and rolling her shoulders to get the tension off, Steph asked: “Are you going home, now?”

The girl seemed embarrassed. She shook her head as Stephanie raised her eyebrows quizzically, fixing the strap of the thermos. “In all truth,” she explained, absently rolling her ring around her finger, “I should at least do a round today. I was considering going to Peggy’s.” her embarrassment seemed to grow. “I _am_ still new at this, and I should at least warn her of the new… developments.”

“Tora,” Stephanie _stared_ at her, resting her hands on her hips. “Peggy and I aren’t jealous divorcees fighting over the children’s guardianship. It’s good that you are going to talk to her.” and before her friend could reply, she added: “But I’m going with you.”

Tora seemed slightly surprised, and a lot worried. “On a Hunt?” she pointed out, carefully, leaving the many implications hanging on the air.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” defied Steph, crossing her arms and keeping her chin up.

“I would not dream of it.” replied her friend, gravely. “But, again… on a Hunt with Peggy and Antonia?”

She did blush at that remark, but kept her face straight and her feet braced. _“Well?_ Neither is the boss of me.” After a brief hesitation, and seeing Tora didn’t look absolutely convinced, she went on. “And, honestly? I really should talk to them. There’s no sense delaying it.”

That seemed to agree, shaking her head slowly and thoughtfully. “You know Antonia will be furious,” she warned, anyway, because it was true. Stephanie could already hear the girl’s protests. “But,” proceeded her friend, opening a secretive smile, “if you wish to come with me, I would never stop you.”

Steph smiled back. “You are not alone, right?”

“Not by any means.” agreed Tora, chuckling just a bit. “Well, then!” she proclaimed, standing straight, tall and proud, filling her lungs to puff her chest. “Would you like to see me in full regalia? I have not transformed yet, to be fully honest. But I am sure it will be worthy of a warrior!”

Stephanie actually begun to laugh at this. “I’m dying to see it! But not here, right?”

“Let us find a more secluded spot,” agreed her friend. 

They walked away from the hospital in search for an empty space, remembering to call home in the way to warn they wouldn’t be in for dinner. Tora talked about James, and seeing her friend this happy soothed Steph’s heart somewhat. She worried, of course, would probably never stop worrying – but in that exact moment, nothing seemed to be wrong.

At last, they found a back alley that was deserted enough and Tora took a few steps back to be in plain sight. Taking a deep breath and shooting an excited grin at her friend, she brought out her Soul Gem, which shone a deep red. Stephanie’s heart picked up. 

“Ready?” asked Tora.

“Ready.” confirmed the girl, feeling giddy and a tad silly.

There was a bright light, and just like that, Tora reappeared in all her Magical Girl glory.

She looked like some sort of legendary warrior, was Stephanie’s first thought. Her boots were different from Toni’s (the heavy, leather and brass ones) and Peggy’s (heeled, hugging her ankles, maneuverable); hers looked more like riding boots, with gold and red details, efficient, meant to spent weeks on the road and resist anything thrown at them. 

She was wearing a pleated skirt, red and gold, shorter on one side, which she could only suppose was to help fighting. It melted into a sort of armored sleeveless top, something that resembled chainmail, although it was formed by diamond shapes. The same form covered her arms until just about her elbow, gloves protecting her hands. She could see Tora’s Soul Gem keeping her cape in place around her neck – a billowy, deep red cape, worthy of a superheroine. Finally, around her head there was a diadem keeping her bangs back, with wings on the sides. Her friend was beaming. 

Stephanie sucked in a breath to cheer, to clap, excitement bubbling in her belly, because despite everything, despite the death and loneliness, there was still some sort of thrill in seeing this kind of magic at work. In seeing someone standing up, proud and defiant, power flowing through them for just making the decision. There was still wonder in seeing Tora looking like this, shiny and regal and beaming.

She was about to let out that breath, when she got interrupted.

“What did you _do?”_

For a split second, she thought it was Toni, fooled by the sharp edge of the worlds, by the low threatening hint that seemed about to overflow dangerously. But then she caught sight of Tora’s face, the way her eyes widened and her lips whitened, and she knew it wasn’t Toni.

“What did you _do?”_ hissed Loki, leaving the shadows behind them both. She advanced slowly, Fenrir on her heels, completely ignoring Stephanie as her eyes burrowed into Tora’s. Taking shallow breaths, she repeated the question, adding more venom and force behind the words. “What. Did you. _DO?”_

Loki did remind Steph of Toni in the oddest ways: the dark hair, the intense eyes, the aura of freezing, acute anger they could exhale. She was scrawny, and very pale, and at the moment was staring at Tora in a mixture of fury, shock and utter disbelief. And, if Stephanie looked hard enough, if she paid careful attention to her eyes – despair. Betrayal.

“Loki…” begun Tora, soothingly, stepping towards the girl. “Listen to me first.”

 _“Listen to you?”_ snarled the brunette, making the both of them back away. “You want me to _listen to you?_ Why _should_ I? Did you listen to anything I _told you?”_

Her voice had grown louder at each phrase, her body tenser, and her fury more obvious. Stephanie backed away towards Tora, trying to not be too obvious about it. Her friend flinched, as if physically struck by the words, an expression of hurt and regret coloring her features.

“I did!” she protested, earnestly. “Loki, I did listen to what you had to say. If you would let me explain…”

“Explain what?” the girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and her voice lowered likewise. “Explain why you went and made the most demented decision _of your life?_ Explain why you threw it away like a fucking _twat, after all the warnings I gave you?”_

“I made my own decision!” exclaimed Tora, trying to make herself heard. “I understood what you were saying, Loki, but it is different for me!”

The temperature of the place fell drastically – Stephanie could actually _feel it_ , the chills coming up her arms, the warmth sipping away. She wondered if Tora had missed the expression on Loki’s face – a split second lightening, the kind of minimally perceptible twitch that gave so much away if you were lucky to be looking at the right moment.

For any reason she couldn’t guess, that remark had just pushed Loki over the edge.

“It’s different for you.” repeated the young girl, and frost was beginning to form around her feet. Tora noticed, shifting into a protective stance – it was only then Stephanie realized she’d been holding something, a heavy hammer with a leather grip. 

“Yes,” agreed the girl, and Steph flinched, knowing it to have been a very bad answer. She had no idea why Loki was this enraged, but she could guess it would lead to nothing good. “Loki, listen,” Tora stepped forward, offering a hand to the girl, probably never even noticing the gesture. “When you contracted… I understand you were in a bad place. With your family. I know your wish was not fulfilled the way you wanted it to. But whatever it is the big mistake you made…”

Almost too fast, Loki’s expression went through about fifteen different emotions. Stephanie saw it flash through surprise, then terror, absolute panic, than anger again, if more hesitant than before. “You know _what?”_ she growled, pulling something out of her sweater. Her Soul Gem, the girl realized, hanging from a necklace, and shining venom green. “How the hell do _you_ know about my wish, Odinson?”

Tora’s face flushed at being caught, and her words frizzled into silence. In a flare of violent green light, Loki reappeared in her Magical Girl outfit, holding a long scepter in a very menacing way. Off handedly, Steph noticed her clothing looked a lot like a figure skating outfit – the black boots up until her knees could have been skates very easily, the bright green skirt with a layer of shiny black fabric full of movement. Her corset was deeper green and black, threaded with shiny lines – on the see-through fabric of her arms, she could see it forming snakes that slithered down to her hands. 

She couldn’t see her Soul Gem anywhere anymore – so the girl could only guess it was pinned to her hair, like Peggy’s, keeping her bangs away from her face. 

“What do you know?” demanded Loki, aggressively, pointing the scepter towards Tora. Fenrir was crouching next to her, now, his ears flat against his skull. He was crying lowly, pawing at Loki’s feet, but her owner was completely ignoring him. _“What did IC tell you?”_

“Nothing!” insisted Tora, loudly, refusing to be intimidated. Stephanie was beginning to get more than a little apprehensive. “He only said you wish did not happen the way you expected…”

“What _else?”_

 _“Nothing!”_ said Tora, frustrated. “I promise! I did not ask him anything that you would not tell me yourself!”

“How do you know what I would tell you or not?!” snapped Loki, stepping forward menacingly. “You don’t have enough brains to _not_ do something that _can_ get you killed and _will_ make you miserable for the rest of your life!”

“If you would _listen to me_ , you would see that this is not what you think it is!” pleaded her friend, urgently.

“Ah!” mocked the girl, loudly. “Is it not? Why? Do you think you are so _different_ from me?” she opened a mean smile, filled with irony. “Do you think you are _better_ than me?”

“I did not mean it in that way!” denied Tora, stepping forward too, her fingers tightening on her hammer.

“What way _did_ you mean it, Odinson? You are not different from any of us! You’re a fool and pathetic and you have _no idea_ what you just did to yourself!”

“I was trying to help you!” screamed the girl, her frustration boiling over, her patience gone.

_“I don’t need any help from you!”_

There was a blast that blinded Stephanie, making her stagger backward. Loki lunged towards Tora, who raised the hammer to protect herself, and their weapons collided loudly, knocking Tora backwards. 

_“TORA!”_ yelled Stephanie, running towards them as fast as she could. However, before she could get even close, her feet suddenly got stuck – she looked down to find a thick layer of ice crawling up her feet, locking her in place. “NO! _SHIT!_ TORA!” 

Fenrir began barking, afraid to get closer, advancing and then backing away whimpering. Apparently oblivious, the two girls were now positively at each other’s throat. And Steph had a sick feeling that, even if stripped of her explosive anger, Loki would still be better than Tora – its added weight meant her friend was getting simply _crushed_. Tora couldn’t find her footing, constantly slipping off on the ice that had covered the street, barely managing to block Loki’s scepter.

“STOP THIS!” screamed the girl, out of breath. “I will _not_ fight you!”

“Didn’t you say it was _different_ for you? So prove it!” replied Loki, swinging her weapon with expertise. “If you can’t go past me, you’ll be dead by your first witch!”

“Are you trying to _test_ me?!” growled Tora, obviously unwilling to actually land a hit on the younger girl. “Stop this foolishness, Loki! We are not enemies!”

The tip of the scepter’s blade caught her friend on the chin, spilling blood on the ice. Stephanie screamed, struggling to break free. 

“If you won’t fight,” threatened Loki, blood still dripping from the blade, emotionless and lowly. “You’ll just die.”

Growling, Tora finally fought back with full intent. “TORA! DON’T!” warned Steph, beginning to punch the ice around her calves to break it. Her hands soon begun to lose feeling. Tora swung her hammer by the leather loop at the tip of the handle, hitting Loki on the elbow. The smaller girl let out a yelp of pain and dropped her weapon, clutching her arm with the other hand. “YOU WILL END UP KILLING EACH OTHER!”

Suddenly, two forms lunged at her feet. Stephanie cried from the fright, throwing herself backwards – the back of her knee got caught on a sharp tip in the ice, cutting it painfully. She struggled to avoid the other tips, taking too long to recognize what was at her feet. It was Fenrir, furiously clawing and gnawing at the ice that held her. Next to him there was a cat she hadn’t noticed before, skinny and dirty, trying to work her free with equal effort. 

Loki’s pets were trying to get her out. That couldn’t be a good sign. She bent down and began tearing it away with her nails.

“You know no more about me than I know about you!” accused Tora, meanwhile, keeping away from Loki’s range as well as she could. “You cannot know why I contracted!”

“I know what happens once you do!” snarled the brunette, smartly sliding past her defenses and landing a deep cut to her shoulder. She was holding her staff with her left hand now, the right arm apparently useless.

“It cannot be set in stone!”

“It IS!”

“STOP FIGHTING!” screamed Stephanie, frantic, as her toes begun to completely lose sensation.

“You don’t know the first thing about me! About _us!”_ hissed Loki, breaking Tora’s defenses methodically and with progressive efficiency.

“I would if you _TOLD ME!”_ snapped Tora, trying to clear the blood from her eyes.

“It’s _NONE of your business!”_ snapped Loki, evading a wild swing of the hammer.

“Neither is my _life!”_ growled Tora, rapidly trying to get out of range again. “You act as if you want to help me, and then _you attack me! How can I know you are not lying?”_

Steph’s nails had begun to bleed. Loki’s voice dropped, almost too low for her to hear, and sounding all the more lethal because of it.

“You’ll thank me for this.” she whispered, darkly.

With one swift movement, the younger girl knocked Tora down on her back, swirling the staff on her fingers until the tip of the blade was pointing downwards. Her friend raised her hammer, but too late and too slow, and Steph could see Loki would be faster, would be smarter, would hit a vital spot, and then…

_“TORA!”_

And suddenly, with no change at all, as if it had never happened, Loki was knocked back violently, landing flat on the floor a few feet away from Tora, who hadn’t moved an inch. Someone’s voice called out her name, but its owner didn’t register in Steph’s adrenaline fogged mind.

Toni was looming over Loki, the girl’s scepter safely held in her hands, and pointing towards its owner threateningly. “Get off me.” hissed the younger girl, glaring up at Toni with burning contempt.

“What for? So you can finish killing her?” she challenged, eerily calm, leaning closer. She dropped to one knee, still holding the weapon safely and whispered once their faces were really close: “Don’t you think you’ve hurt her enough already, Laufeyson?”

Breathing hard, but obviously losing her killing intent for the moment, Loki just gritted her teeth and stared nastily at Toni. “Let Stephanie go.” ordered the girl, and that phrase was delivered in a considerably darker tone.

The ice trapping her melted, soaking her socks through. Without pausing, Steph run towards Tora, still lying on the ground, and dropped to her knees next to her. “Are you okay?” she asked, fretting, not sure if she should touch her.

“I am fine.” answered Tora, rather gruffly, sitting up faster than she probably ought to. Stephanie rushed to get a hand on her shoulder and make her lie down again, but someone was faster than her.

“Don’t sit up so fast, your wounds…”

Steph’s head snapped up. Peggy was kneeling by Tora’s other side, Fury by her shoulder, supporting her weight with one arm. Their eyes met briefly before she looked down again, resting a hand on the nasty cut above Tora’s eyes while Fury directed her towards the worst injuries. Stephanie’s heart was still beating like crazy. She was bleeding and her feet were freezing. Fenrir and the strange cat were back by Loki’s side.

“Are you going to behave?” asked Toni, in a harsh voice. Loki was picking herself up from the ground. She simply snatched her scepter back, glaring in silent anger and putting her left hand over her injured arm. “Let me…”

 _“No.”_ hissed the younger girl, backing away. “I can take care of it myself.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” replied Antonia, trying to reach for her. Peggy was still healing the worst of Tora’s injuries, while her friend’s breathing slowly evened out again. She looked up at the bickering and huffed, out of patience.

“Stephanie is hurt, Antonia.” she called out, snappy. “Will you help over here, already? I can’t cover the both of them.”

“It’s nothing.” she said, hurriedly. “It’s just a little cut… I… Toni, _really.”_ protested the girl, when Toni knelt by her, pulling her hands away from Tora. “Toni, I’m _fine.”_

“Your _nails_ are bleeding.” she replied, impatient. “How did you even do it?”

“I was trying to get myself free!” retorted Steph, resisting the urge to simply throw her arms up or to punch the other girl on the face. “You really don’t need to…”

“You really should let Antonia heal you, Stephanie,” interrupted the panther, sensibly. “It’ll be bad if you lose too much blood.”

Mumbling something at Fury’s remark, Toni held her fingers tightly. Her hands glowed softly and the pain faded, leaving only smears of blood behind. As Toni begun healing her leg, Tora seemed to remember she could actually do it herself and tried to stop Peggy.

“I can do it alone, Peggy. There is no need to exhaust yourself.” she pointed out, embarrassed, diverting the girl’s hands away from her wounds.

“You can pay me back later.” replied Peggy, firmly, avoiding Tora’s hands and placing her fingers over the injuries anyway. “It’s no problem.”

The mood was tense and very awkward, now. Steph thanked Toni silently for healing her, and as all of them got back to their feet, more or less whole and unharmed, an uncomfortable silence fell over the scene. Loki was busy paying attention to Fenrir and the cat, who was now crouching between the dog’s front paws, as if trying to keep hidden. Even Tora seemed completely out of words to say.

“Well, shit.” sighed Toni, finally, rubbing her temples. “Why do I ever think I can catch a break?”

“Toni. Please stop being an asshole.” said Stephanie, almost surprised with herself. However, right then, she didn’t care. She wanted to strangle Loki, Tora _and_ Toni, then get into a huge bubble bath and never get out ever again. Toni glared at her. She ignored it.

“Can we talk about the huge elephant in the room?” called Loki, suddenly, getting up and approaching their little bundle. Tora tensed up. “What are we going to do _with her?”_

“You do not need to do anything with me.” replied Tora, dryly. “I am a Magical Girl, now – no different from any of you.”

Loki scoffed. “Or so you think.”

“Loki.” warned Peggy, her eyes darting to Tora briefly before locking on the smaller girl.

“What? So we are going to never bring it up and pretend it’s not true?” she provoked, pointing towards Tora with her scepter, although in a non-threatening way.

“What is she talking about?” demanded Tora, sensing something was off. Her eyes travelled over the three girls, resting briefly on Steph before turning back to Peggy. “What does she mean?”

Peggy sighed, tiredly. Toni crossed her arms. “Well, tell her.” she encouraged, shrugging. “Loki is right, she’ll notice on her own pretty soon.”

“Notice _what?”_

Peggy shot a mean look at Toni, before turning to Tora and speaking softly, very gently. “They are talking about your Soul Gem.” she explained, pointing to the base of her neck. “It is… smaller than ours.”

“Smaller?” repeated Stephanie, blinking at her friend.

“Less powerful.” translated Toni, dryly. Peggy glared at her.

“Each girl’s Soul Gem generates a different amount of magic. You could say its ‘power’ or ‘size’ depends on each person’s latent aptitude.” explained Fury, patiently, resting on Peggy’s shoulder. “Myself, and any Magical Girl, can sense the power of other people’s Soul Gems, and faintly feel the potential of someone who’s yet to contract.” He jumped to the floor, coming closer to Tora. “You’re still new, so you probably can’t grasp it, yet. Your Soul Gem isn’t _small_. It’s an average size for a Magical Girl. However, by comparison, it’s indeed smaller than theirs.”

“Smaller than _all_ of theirs?” questioned Tora, sounding disbelieving.

“Smaller than mine and Loki’s, yes.” confirmed Peggy, briefly, and Fury nodded. Loki scoffed again.

“And Antonia’s?” insisted the girl, eyeing the brunette with mistrustful eyes.

“Antonia is…” begun the panther, only to be interrupted.

“Hell if _we_ know.” replied Loki, speaking over him and glaring at Toni with equal suspiciousness. “Hers is smaller than yours, but for whatever reason…” the girl stared pointedly at a point between the older girl’s breasts, where the blue light shone the brightest. “She can generate about as much magic as me or Carter.”

“So what you are saying,” concluded Tora, looking at Loki in a very unfriendly manner. “Is that you think I’m weak.”

“I know that you are weak.” corrected the brunette, bitterly. “Out of us three? I’m the one with most Magic. Carter is the most experienced. And Stark is the smartest. You? You’ll be dead before the end of _the week.”_

 _“Drop it_ , Loki.” intervened Peggy, getting between the both of them. “Don’t listen to her, Tora. Latent power isn’t the only thing that matters about being a Magical Girl. Besides.” she directed a stern look towards Loki. “I know you weren’t using your full potential in this fight.”

“You weren’t?” breathed Stephanie, surprised. Tora seemed to be going pretty all-out to her. 

Her friend glanced at her briefly, still watching Loki for any sign of hostility. “No, I was not.” she admitted, gripping her hammer hard.

 _“See?”_ hissed Loki, turning to Toni in particular, pointing angrily at Tora. “She is a complete moron! I was trying to kill her and she was holding back!”

“I can _still_ fry your brains, Loki!” snarled Tora, trying to step around Peggy.

 _“Stop it!”_ yelled the girl, harshly pulling a gun out. “Stop it _right now!_ We have more important things to do than try to kill one another!”

“No one asked you, Carter!” snapped Loki, shoving Stephanie violently out of the way to approach her. Steph yelped, surprised, stammering backwards. “No one asked either of you to try to stop us. She’s going to die either way!”

“What do you think you are _doing?”_ exclaimed Peggy, shoving back at Loki when she got into her personal space. “Leave Stephanie out of this!”

“I don’t fucking care about your girlfriend, Carter!” cursed the brunette, as Tora hurried to steady Steph. 

“If you hurt her _one more time_ , Loki…” she warned, glaring daggers at the other.

 _“Stop fighting!”_ cried Stephanie, completely out of patience. “You are supposed to be working together! And I’m not a kid!”

 _“Working together?”_ mocked Loki, laughing ironically. “Don’t you know _anything,_ Rogers? We are not friends. We are barely allies. Do you think any of us _wants_ to be here?”

“Loki, shut up _right now_ , or so help me…” threatened Toni, pulling out a revolver, too.

 _“Toni!”_ chocked Stephanie, trying to walk up to her. What were they _doing?!_ Why everyone kept pulling out their weapons? Peggy stopped her, putting an arm in front of her chest.

“Don’t.” she warned, giving Loki a cold look. “And I agree with Antonia, Loki. If you don’t stop it _right now…”_

“Then what?” challenged the brunette, openly scorning them. “You’ll shoot me? _You?_ I can believe _Stark_ would blow up my brains, it wouldn’t be the _first_ person she’s killed after all!” she laughed acidly, and the color bleached from Toni’s face abruptly. Stephanie stared at the brunette with wild eyes, momentarily forgetting everyone else around them. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t recall ever seeing this measure of panic in them before.

Toni? 

_Kill someone?_

That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. It _wasn’t_. She shook her head at the girl, silently begging for a denial, but Toni seemed at a loss for words. Her heart dropped miserably. _No, God_. Not Toni. It wasn’t true. Please, it’s _not true._

Loki kept going, oblivious to their exchange.

“But _you_ , Carter?” she proceeded, dismissive. “You do nothing but _pretend_ you are the perfect Magical Girl. I remember the way you were with us when Piper was alive, always trying to act like the mentor, always bossing us around, always thinking you knew better than us…”

“Shut up.” hissed Peggy, so low Loki didn’t hear her. It startled Steph out of her haze, and she turned back to the girl by her side – the look in her face was sharp and tight.

“…when in reality, we all know you’re just as miserable as the rest of us!”

“SHUT UP!” yelled the girl, straightening her gun and shooting at Loki’s feet. Tora and Stephanie cried out, backing away suddenly – the brunette had jumped backwards swiftly, avoiding the shot.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” she demanded, wary, as if waiting for Peggy to shoot again. Stephanie’s heart leapt out of her chest.

“Shut. UP.” repeated Peggy, her cheeks flaming red and her eyes deadly. “I’m sick of your attitude, Loki! Do you think I _like it?_ Do you think I _do this_ because I’m playing pretend and living in a happy pink bubble? _I hate it!”_ she threw her shotgun at the ground violently. “I hate _every minute_ of it! I _hate_ being a Magical Girl! But what do you _expect_ me to do? Do you want me to shoot myself already and be over with it? Do you want me to _bitch_ about it every single minute of my life like _you do?”_

“Peggy, please,” tried to intervene Stephanie, reaching for her elbow, but her friend shoved her away, white-faced with anger.

 _“If I give up, people die!”_ screamed Peggy, to no one in particular. The other girls were frozen in varying stages of shock. “If I stop fighting, Witches kill, curse and _destroy_ and _no one_ stops them! Every moment I’m not fighting there’s someone _dying_ because of them! I can’t just _stand there_ and let them drop like flies! But do you think _I like it?”_ before the stunned audience, in the deafening silence that followed her words, Peggy ripped off her Soul Gem from her hair. “Do you think I don’t want to let it all go to hell _every single day?_ And you know what else?” she demanded, body shaking, voice about to break as she closed her fingers around the hair pin. “Maybe I don’t _want_ to be a Magical Girl _anymore!”_

Loki’s and Toni’s eyes widened in panic at once, their faces paling, their bodies locking in dread. Throwing her arm back, lips set on a thin line, Peggy brought it down with all her strength… 

“CARTER, _NO—”_ yelled Loki, sprinting forward. 

_“DON’T!”_ shouted Toni, fumbling with her right glove desperately. 

_CRASH._

…and her Soul Gem shattered to pieces on the floor at her feet.

There was a second when reality held its breath.

And then Peggy’s body sagged.

“PEGGY!” yelled Stephanie, hurrying towards her. The girl’s knees gave out under her just as her Magical Girl outfit disappeared, letting her hair fall on her face. Steph grabbed her by the waist, and Peggy fell into her arms. “Peggy! _Peggy!”_ she called, struggling under the girl’s weight, trying to lower her to the ground. Tora caught her elbows and helped her, supporting the older girl’s body.

“What has happened to her?!” asked Tora, laying Peggy down.

“I don’t know! _Peggy!”_ she exclaimed, hurrying to check her vitals. “Tora, her heart’s not beating!”

“We have to get an ambulance!” panted her friend, reaching for her cellphone. “Or perhaps it would be faster…”

“It’s useless.”

Steph’s head wiped around. Loki and Toni were just standing there, unmoving. Loki was staring away, her expression cloaked in shadow, but Toni’s was unreadable and uncaring. “It’s useless.” she repeated, coolly. “She’s dead.”

“That cannot be!” replied Tora, fervently, dialing emergency. “How could she be dead, she simply…”

Toni held her cellphone, closing Tora’s fingers around it. “She’s already dead.” repeated the girl, tiredly. “Carter killed herself.”

 _“Peggy wouldn’t do that!”_ protested Steph, holding on tightly to her friend. She was lying completely loose on her lap, head falling back, eyelids closed.

Fury got closer, inspecting the remains of Peggy’s Soul Gem. He sighed deeply and sat on the ground next to them, shaking his head. “Well, to be completely fair, Peggy didn’t know the full expense of the consequences. Still, she knew how important her Soul Gem was. To throw herself away like that…”

“What are you talking about?” demanded Tora, getting up on one knee. “Fury, you need to help us! You can’t let Peggy die!”

The panther shook his head, sadly. “Tora, this one over there isn’t Peggy. That’s just am empty vessel.”

Tora and Stephanie looked over at each other. “What…?”

“Peggy just threw herself away,” proceeded Fury, nudging an yellow shard with his paw. “It’s useless, now, it has been broken to pieces.”

“Fury, what do you _mean?”_ asked Tora, self-consciously touching her own Gem around her neck.

Toni let go of Tora’s hand then, sighing exasperatedly, but allowing Fury to go on. “You can’t fight Witches with a human body,” he explained, going around the remains of Peggy’s Gem. “It’s too weak and vulnerable. Magical Girls’ bodies are but a vessel that can be controlled through their Gems, that contain their Souls. It’s a form that allows the usage of Magic, and because it’s compact, it’s safer.”

Tora and Stephanie stared at in in pure horror, incapable of moving. Steph tightened her grip on Peggy. Her face was very pale, now.

“You mean that…” whispered Stephanie, staring at her best friend’s Gem. “You mean that you… you took out…”

“That’s my job as the one who forms contracts, yes.” confirmed the panther, efficiently. “I separate your souls from their human bodies and turn them into Soul Gems.”

“How… how could you…” whispered Tora, eyes widening. “How could you do that to us?”

“But it’s in your best interests,” replied Fury, evenly. “Even if you support a major injury that would kill a regular human being, you can just heal it using magic. As long as your Soul Gem is safe, so are you.”

 _“How could you do that to us?”_ screamed Tora, louder, angrier, grabbing Fury by the neck. “You _tricked_ us! It’s your fault that Peggy is…!” she caught herself, body shaking with grief.

“I really can’t understand you.” sighed the panther, as if he barely felt the tight grip in this throat. “This happens every time I share this piece of information. Why do humans worry so much about the placement of their souls?”

“But Peggy!…” hiccupped Steph, urgently. “Peggy is… Peggy is really…?”

“She destroyed her Soul Gem, Stephanie. There’s no way she could survive that.” replied the panther, shrugging. “It’s a pity, really. I’m sure she didn’t know what she was doing.”

Cold venom filled Steph’s veins. Her heart stopped beating for what felt like forever. She buried her face on Peggy’s hair and begun sobbing desperately, unable to catch her breath or to think or to stop. She could only cry and try to not completely lose herself in it.

Peggy’s body was growing colder by the minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to my beta, it was weird that we had gotten so far as chapter 6 and no one had died, yet. Well, now that's been fixed.


	7. "I'm Fine"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts and behavior. Portrayal of character with a mental disorder being manipulated and taken advantage of, children abandonment and canon-typical violence. Discussions of character death.

The thing is, Loki knew how things worked.

She asked. Not before she contracted, no, because no one ever taught IC about _informed consent._ She didn’t know what was happening when she contracted. She was terrified, crumbling from the inside, and confused. Focusing was impossible and she wanted to sleep and she couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t asked anything.

But after. Wrapped in a stolen blanket against a tree trunk, nesting Bitteline as close to her chest as possible, the world in merciful clarity and her heart bleeding, she had asked her questions.

Loki knew the rules to the game.

She was aware Charlie Xavior knew it, too – how could she not, when she was inside Magical Girl’s minds more often than not? But not many more knew. Piper didn’t have the faintest idea. She’d just contracted when they met. And Carter, already a veteran, had never even thought of questioning the hell she’d gotten herself into.

Loki knew better than them, but, more than that, she knew better than to tell Piper the truth. She’d convinced the girl of the importance of her Soul Gem, helping her pry it off the front of her Magical Girl outfit and tuck it somewhere safer, much as she’d done with her own, that used to hold her hair back. It was now hidden, attached to the inside of her tight under layers of gauze and bandages.

She couldn’t save Piper. 

She couldn’t even stop Tora from contracting.

And Carter – she’d met Carter before she’d met Piper, and her stupid do-gooder of a partner was always trying to make peace between them, but Loki hated Carter. She knew a few well-placed words could destroy her façade, but the temptation had never been great enough to override her good sense. Not now. Not anymore. Not as long as she could keep her Soul Gem clean enough.

And once Piper was gone, dead and buried, and Loki waited until her loved ones faded away to come near the grave and say goodbye, she’d known – she’d left with the knowledge, if nothing else, that Peggy Carter was one life she hadn’t managed to ruin. It was one of the many small things Loki held on tight to. 

But it seemed that it had been just a matter of time.

“What’s her name?”

Loki turned her head away from the window. Rogers was sitting at the other corner of the limo, her knees brought up to her chest, her blue eyes completely surrounded by red, and her face puffy and flushed. It had taken long enough for her and Tora to pull it together. She wondered how this blondie could possibly have so much potential as a Magical Girl. She wasn’t as good at sensing potential as IC was, none of them were, except perhaps Charlie, but she couldn’t possible miss it – like a river of pure energy flowing underneath her skin.

It was hard to believe seeing her as she was now. 

“What?” asked Loki, frowning at the question.

“Her,” explained Rogers, pointing at Bibi curled against her leg. “What’s her name?”

The brunette examined her, confused. After a brief paused, she answered. “Bibi. Why?”

“She tried to help me,” replied blondie, finally uncurling from her spot by the window. “When I was stuck in the ice. She and Fenrir tried to get me out.”

“Did they?” drawled Loki, staring at her pets. “Traitors.” she added, under her breath. Bitteline yawned pointedly, and gave her a very unimpressed look.

“Were you really going to do it?” whispered Rogers, staring at her steadily.

“Do what?”

“Kill Tora.”

Loki buried a hand on Fenrir’s fur, and the dog rested his head on her knee. Bibi raised her head briefly to lick his nose. “Yes.” she replied, flatly, avoiding the blue eyes.

 _“Why?”_ puzzled Rogers. She was staring in utter disbelief. “You’re both Magical Girls. You want the same thing.”

She snorted. “Yes, that’s precisely the point, isn’t it?” raising her head, she looked at her in a way that she might or might not have learned from her cat. “We are competition, not buddies.” shaking her head, she added. “But that’s not why I did it.”

“Why, then?” insisted blondie. Gosh, she really was stubborn.

“Because she’s going to die anyway.” replied Loki, pointedly looking back out of the window. “Better that I off her now than get anyone’s hopes up.”

“You can’t know that.”

She chuckled cruelly to herself. Piper’s Soul Gem had been powerful enough – and she was really good at what she did, once Loki managed to wiggle some sense into that airhead of hers. She had hoped, for the briefest of moments. “Yes, I can.” she murmured, darkly.

Rogers stopped bothering her after that.

Soon enough, they arrived at Stark’s house, the motorist driving straight into the garage. Loki opened the door to let Fenrir and Bitteline out first, and then climbed out, trying to sense if Stark had returned already. She had no idea what the girl intended to do with the body, but if there was someone who could disappear with a corpse, it was Antonia Stark.

Once they were inside, she saw Rogers recoil into a corner and take out her cellphone. She pretended to busy herself in the kitchen and listened to snippets of the conversation. 

“Tora? It’s me.” There was a pause. “How did it go? Did they…” she sighed and listened for a good time. “So you are in your room already? Yeah, no. No, I’ll do okay.” Another pause. “Honestly, Tora, if you can go back home and lie through your teeth right after…” her voice wavered and she gulped. “I can handle a party this Saturday. I mean, just because…” she gulped again, forcefully. “Just because this happened… doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be happy James is recovered.”

Loki took a peek around the corner. Rogers had sunk on a corner of one of Stark’s luxurious couches, and was biting her lips as she listened to her friend. “No, not yet. I don’t know. Well, where do you go to bury someone who died inexplicably?” She passed her fingers through her hair. “Loki is here.” Shaking her head she rested her back against the sofa’s arm. “She won’t.” Pause. “Because Toni told her to come with me.” She sighed tiredly. “You know she’s overprotective.”

Rolling her eyes dramatically and climbing on top of a counter to grab some food for Fenrir and Bibi, she considered asking Rogers if she’d thought about going to the police to press charges on her stalker girlfriend number two.

Or number one, now. 

“Yeah, probably,” she heard blondie saying. “I already missed a day, my teachers will notice.” There was a faint rustling sound. “I don’t know, either. I’ll talk to her. Probably not today, though.” There was a longer pause. “Thank you, Tora. I love you, too.” Another faint rustle. “All right. Okay. Bye...”

Ignoring her completely, Loki picked Bibi off the floor and gathered the food with her other arm. She passed by Rogers and went straight into the guest room, depositing Bitteline on the bed and their food on their respective feeders. 

Then she sat by the side of the bed, where it met the wall, and curled tightly unto herself. Her pets ignored the food, and immediately came to cuddle with her. Knowing how much Bibi hated water, Loki burrowed her face on Fenrir’s neck before she began to cry.

.  
.  
.

 _How the mighty have fallen_ , thought Toni, bitterly, as she entered her own house through the back door. Her muscles were hellishly sore, there was dirt under her fingernails, and all she wanted in the world was a bath. And a burger. Maybe booze. 

Instead, she had to explain herself to Stephanie.

Some nights just never ended.

The girl was sitting in her couch, staring blankly ahead. Sometimes – who was she trying to fool? Every time, _all_ the time – it was hard remembering not everyone was used to death the way she was. That not everyone saw it at every corner and passed it by with little to no acknowledgment. Obadiah would’ve approved.

“Stephanie.”

Her head whipped up – she stood, putting the sofa between them, and fidgeted there awkwardly. “I’m not going to kill you.” remarked Toni, dryly. 

“I know that.” said Steph, gruffly. She slowly went around the couch, until they were at a reasonable distance from one another, eyeing the girl carefully.

“Go ahead and ask,” said the brunette, passing by her and towards the corridor. “Just move it, okay?”

Stephanie followed her, letting the silence stretch until they reached the door to one of the guest’s bedroom. Toni opened it and leaned against the doorframe, unwilling to just dismiss the girl like that. She knew Steph wanted to know.

Finally, taking a breath, the girl asked: “What did Loki mean by you having killed already?”

Closing her eyes for just a split second longer than necessary, Toni replied in a tired voice. “Steph, what do you know about Stark Industries?”

The girl frowned. “Don’t they make cellphones?”

 _If I ever decide to let Walpurgis Night blow the world up_ , thought the older girl, trying her best not to bang her head against the wall, _you better not blame me, Yinsen._  
Out loud, she answered: “That, too.” rubbing her temples, Toni went on. “But cellphones are just a side product, and it’s not a big part of our income. Stark Industries is a weapon development company that my father founded. We fabricate guns and anything else the military might require.” chuckling bitterly and leaning against the door frame, she added: “And we make money by the shovel selling them.”  
Stephanie stared at her with those damned insightful blue eyes. “You keep saying ‘we’. Aren’t you too young to own a company?”

Toni smiled. “I don’t own it. Obadiah does.” she fidgeted, averting her eyes towards the bedroom. “At least until I come of age.” Setting her lips into a thin line, she readied herself from explaining the thorny part of it. “But before my father died, I helped him develop new products. Intelligent weaponry. Satellite targeting. Robotics. I was _good_ at it.” The girl shrugged, letting out a small self-depreciative chuckle. “Before the accident, I had been fighting for them to let me go to MIT. I was impossibly eager to step up in Stark Industries. I had a folder this thick with new ideas.”

She held a hand by her waist, which wasn’t an exaggeration at all. Putting together every project she had been working on before her parents died, she could’ve probably filled a room. Of course, if she’d selected only the ones Howard would even stop to hear about… Stephanie didn’t say anything. 

“Well, but then my drunk of a father crashed the car and Obadiah got the company. And then I was stuck in the hospital with little feeling in my legs and too much time in my hands, and I gave that bastard… schematics after schematics of finely tuned guns and murder apps.” She shot a broad, dazzling smile towards Steph. “But all that was before I found out _dear_ Obbie had been dealing under the table for years.”

“Dealing under the table…?” whispered Stephanie, softly and tensely.

“Terrorists cells, mostly.” Explained Toni, crossing her arms. “So there you have it, Stephanie. Those are the people I have killed by supplying terrorists with the means to shoot at them while providing our military with the means to shoot at the terrorists.”

Steph gazed at her for a long time. “It wasn’t your fault, Toni. You were… you _are_ … only a teenager. There was nothing you could do.”

“No,” agreed Toni, and she _knew it_. She had never had any legal control over the company. She had never had any responsibility to pay close attention to it. But she _had_ designed the weapons that made Obadiah richer and richer and the death toll higher and higher.

And on top of it all, Yinsen…

Putting a hand through her hair, she let out a long sigh. There was little to nothing she could do about Stark Industries right now. Back before she’d contracted, back in the hospital, she’d fed the authorities clues, here and there, to get them on Obadiah’s trail. She’d thought she’d be able to do damage control once she was out of rehab.

Damage control, indeed.

“You can stay here for the night. I’m gonna grab you something to sleep on.” she sidetracked, straightening up. “I can drive you back tomorrow, but you don’t need to wait for me if you want to go earlier. The key is at the weird-looking pot by the door. Just keep it until you can give me back, okay?” 

“All right.” agreed Steph, entering the room warily. The girl took a breath and turned back before she left. “Toni?”

“Yeah?”

“You knew about the Soul Gems, didn’t you?”

Turning around slowly, the girl leaned against the door again, looking her in the eyes. “Yes. I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” whispered Stephanie, hugging herself. There was no accusation in her voice.

“I tried before.” explained Toni, closing her eyes. She remembered the first time she was _told_ about it – she hadn’t wanted to believe it then, but she’d known it was true. It hadn’t been all that bad. At least then she could be sure she _had_ a soul at all. “No one believed me. They thought I was trying to throw them against Fury.”

Steph’s eyes dropped. “How could he do this to you, Toni? If he hadn’t lied to her, Peggy wouldn’t have…” her eyes filled with tears and she stopped to hold them back.

Toni looked away. “Fury differentiates between lying and withholding information. Peggy never asked him what her Soul Gem was. He had no obligation of telling her.”

“That’s _bullshit!”_ accused the other girl, angrily. “It doesn’t matter what you call it, he lied to her and that is _wrong!_ And Tora… now, Tora, too…” she bit her lips and rubbed her eyes.  
The brunette looked up, obstinate not to make eye contact. “I did try to warn you, Stephanie. Being a Magical Girl is not a good thing.” She tapped the Arc Reactor absently. “You heard Carter. We do it because we have to, or to pay for our wishes. If we had a way out, we wouldn’t be here.”

“But Peggy _saved me.”_ insisted Steph, walking closer to Toni, who was forced to meet her eyes. “And you did, too! Not only me, but Tora, and Brenna… if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t…”

“Yes, Stephanie.” interrupted Toni, more harsh than she meant to. “And I am telling you if we had any other option, we would still have given it up. Carter was dying. Tora did it because she had no other way to save her boyfriend, didn’t she?” she stepped back, ready to end this conversation. “It’s our responsibility. That’s all.”

“So you mean that you saved me because it was your _responsibility?”_ accused Stephanie, staring at her aggressively.

The girl took another step back out of the room. “If I could choose, I would give up being a Magical Girl, Stephanie.” she replied evenly. “I wouldn’t think about it twice.”

Putting her back to the girl, she left the scene, walking towards her own room and clinging to the Arc Reactor. If she could, she’d give up. But she couldn’t. If she gave up, she’d loose something much more important than her life.

She could not give up.

.  
.  
.

Tora sighed deeply, rubbing her face to try and clear her head. She hadn’t slept very well last night, and keeping up the façade of being blissfully happy while mourning was indeed more exhausting than she’d predicted.

And she had to call back her father after this. God.

_“Hello?”_

James’ voice had an almost immediate effect on her, as if she’d just gulped down a mug of hot chocolate. Tora bit back the tears and took a deep breath. _“Hello.”_

 _“Tora!”_ There was a loud clang sound, then a stream of apologizes, and silence. _“Ooops, sorry. I knocked my tray over. Hum, yeah. Please ignore that.”_ The boy chuckled. _“How are you?”_

 _“Better now.”_ replied the girl, honestly, discreetly drying her eyes. _“And you?”_

 _“They are probing me like I’m some sort of alien life form,”_ snorted James, and she could imagine him rolling his eyes. _“And dad keeps trying to suffocate me. I called Darcy yesterday, after you left – he learned some new swear words.”_

_“Did he?”_

_“Some of them sounded suspiciously foreign.”_

_“Is that so? How odd.”_

They both began chuckling.

 _“Can I come see you today, or are they really moving you?”_ questioned Tora, biting her lower lip. James sighed.

 _“They are moving me today,”_ he admitted. _“Everyone’s got all worked up. I think I might become a thesis or something. Dad’s not too happy about it, though. I think he’ll try to get me out as soon as he can.”_

_“Do you have any idea when you will be free?”_

_“Probably by dinner time,”_ replied the boy. _“But I am sure I will get some breaks. Can I call you?”_

Tora smiled. _“Of course. Do you have my cellphone?”_

 _“I have dozens of them,”_ joked James, light-hearted. _“That kind of surprises me. I can’t believe I worked up the courage to ask your number so many times.”_

 _“Did you not work up the courage the first time?”_ The girl smiled. James didn’t know Darcy had told her that part. She knew exactly how long it took for him to step up.

 _“Hum. Well. Yeah. Maybe I got a bit more courageous after hitting my head.”_ he replied, embarrassed. Tora laughed.

 _“I love you,”_ she whispered, leaning against the counter.

 _“I love you, too,”_ he answered, sweetly. _“Oh, and call Darcy. He cursed a lot yesterday, but I don’t think he got it all out of his system.”_

 _“Will do.”_ agreed the girl, smiling. _“Talk to you later?“_

 _“Will do.”_ She could see the way he’d been smiling now, that curve to his mouth she hadn’t seen in over a year, and it made her want to cry all over again. _“Bye, love.”_

_“Bye, Jamie.”_

She cut the call and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes again. Shit. She had not cried so much ever since his accident.

“Was that the guy you contracted for?”

Tora jumped at the voice, her hand flying to her Soul Gem – she managed to hold back at the last second, remembering Brett and Brenna were just in the living room. Loki raised one eyebrow at her, hands dug into her pockets, unfazed. She was wearing a hoodie that completely swallowed her, so big it feel to her knees and the same leggings from before. It occurred to Tora that it was somewhat weird Loki didn’t have any clothes her own size. 

“How did _you_ get in here?” she asked, hostile, planting her feet in case she was up for a fight. The brunette, though, only twisted her eyebrow further.

“I rang the bell.” she replied, as deadpan as she could possibly manage.

Tora blushed hard, and tried to cover it by turning around to put the phone back in its place. “Who let you in?”

“Your friend with the glasses.” replied Loki, shrugging and opening the fridge. Tora glared at her.

“Manners?” she reminded, acidly. Loki shrugged again, rummaging through the contents – thanks to Quinn and Philly, they were generally well-supplied and well-fed; thanks to Brenna there was always a good amount of green and organics; and thanks to Jean, there was always an equal amount of junk food that was really bad for their health.

“Don’t have any.” dismissed Loki, grabbing yesterday dinner’s leftovers, the last piece of Quinn’s coconut and chocolate cake, and two sodas. 

“You tried to kill me yesterday, and now you are raiding my fridge?” hissed Tora, trying to bring herself to snatch the food away and throw her out by the neck. The _nerve_ of her! “Antonia does not feed you?”

She snorted and grabbed a fork on the dish rack before leaning against the counter and peeling the plastic covers away. “Hardly. She dismissed most of the house staff. Do you think Stark has any idea how to _make food?_ I don’t think she knows how to _buy it.”_

“Then how are you managing?” questioned the girl, as Loki began eating.

“I use her credit card and cook for myself.” She opened a soda and took a gulp to wash down a big bite of meat. “I suck. Your food is better.”

Tora was so out of words to answer such cynicism, she simply changed the subject. “What do you want here, Loki?” A cold feeling washed over her. “Is Stephanie…”

“She’s fine.” mumbled the younger girl, around a mouthful of Quinn’s potato salad. “Let me eat first.”

“You are…” falling short of insults to use, she simply groaned in frustration.

“Very articulate.” commented Loki, without looking up.

“Are we living in the same universe?” demanded the older girl, baffled. _“You tried to kill me yesterday_. How can you simply act as if nothing has ever happened?”

She raised one eyebrow again, taking her time chewing before replying, more seriously this time. “You do remember you agreed to fight semi-sentient manifestations of human grief, right? What did you think they would do? Invite you over for tea?” 

“I did not think the murder attempts would come from my own fellow in arms.” replied Tora, dryly.

Loki didn’t reply to that, instead finishing her meal in record time. Throwing her head back to gulp down the last of the soda, she put the dishes on the sink and walked towards the living room. “Are you coming?”  
 _“Where?”_

“To talk.” Loki looked over her shoulder, all traces of mockery gone from her eyes. She looked serious again, like in the day they met. “You look surprisingly calm for someone who just found out she’s a zombie.”  
Tora held her Soul Gem firmly in one hand. “I am not a zombie.” she growled, protective.

“Really?” The girl pulled a chain from around her neck, her Soul Gem hanging at the end of it. “You do know that this is just an empty meat suit now, don’t you?” she asked, pinching her own arm. “ _This_ is what you are, now.” she shook the Gem lightly. “A tiny piece of jewelry. Not a human, but a shiny rock. Did that sink in, yet?”

Tora stared at her with glacial cold eyes. “Was that what you came to tell me?”

“No.” Loki tucked the Soul Gem back inside the hoodie, against her heart. “I wanted to explain something to you.”

“Explain what?”

“Why I contracted.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She stared at the smaller girl unsure if she’d heard it right, lips falling slightly open, and sucked in a breath. “Really?”

“I won’t tell you every single thought I ever had in my life,” replied the brunette, rolling her eyes and sticking her hands in her pockets again. “But at least a part of it. Yes.”

Tora felt very tempted to ask why, and equally tempted to tell Loki to fuck off. She _had_ just tried to put a blade through her throat – no, not her throat, realized the girl. Through her _Soul Gem_. But anyway, she had tried to kill her. She was elusive, cynic and violent, and had been keeping secrets about being a Magical Girl. No matter what Loki had been through, or what she believed about IC – could Tora even trust her?

And why, despite everything, a part of her still did?

She sighed. “And where are we going?”

“Central Park,” replied Loki, shrugging. “Thought I’d like to see my old home.”

Tora frowned. “In Central… oh.”

The brunette smiled, almost amused, and went to wait outside. 

.  
.  
.

Toni had lent her the car with the private driver, so Loki simply slipped into the back seat and remained pointedly silent on their way. Once they arrived at Central Park, she walked ahead, ignoring the families and couples around them as Tora followed quietly. They walked between the threes up to a secluded spot, shadowy even at this hour and Loki touched a hand to a tree filled with claw marks.  
Tora frowned behind her. “Are these…?”

“My cat’s,” agreed Loki, smiling absently. Bibi sure liked to leave her mark. Hoisting herself up and beginning to climb the tree, she looked down over her shoulder to where the other girl stood motionless. “Aren’t you coming?”

Rolling her eyes, she followed the brunette up, until they reached a forked branch – Loki sat with her back against the trunk and chuckled ironically. “I still fit,” she remarked, resting her head against it. “Well, make yourself comfortable.”

Tora lowered herself slowly, finding a comfortable position in the branch. She seemed experienced enough in climbing trees – probably wouldn’t fall off. “You used to live here?” 

“Hum,” Loki pulled her knees to her chest, making herself comfortable. “Not live. Just spend the night. Not every night, sometimes I managed some other better place. But mostly I slept here.”

“I thought you weren’t from New York.” pointed the older girl, sounding puzzled.

“ ‘am not,” confirmed the brunette. “I moved here last year, spent some months, moved out again.”

“Why?”

“I moved in because it’s a big city. Same as everyone else.” Loki shrugged. “I moved out because…”

She stopped talking suddenly. The girl hugged her knees in tighter, her eyelids dropping. Biting her lips so hard it drew blood, she forced herself to keep going, even if it sounded as if someone was trying to choke her. “I moved out when Piper died.”

For a moment, Loki thought she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t talk about any of this out loud – not about Piper, insufferable, cheeky, hot-dog-loving Piper, that had snuck her into her home when it was raining and had died in her arms not knowing what was happening. But specially, not about her wish, not about herself and all she had done, and not about…

“Piper?” whispered Tora, holding her breath. Loki glanced up and felt her resolve harden. She wouldn’t know anything she didn’t explicitly tell her, and, anyway, things were different now. Tora was a Magical Girl. She could die at any minute, _would_ almost certainly die very soon, and if Loki didn’t do this now… she’d never do it.

So she collected her courage and went on.

“We partnered up after I got here.” she explained, digging her fingers through her hair. It made her bangs even messier than they already were. “Carter tried to chaperone us. I hadn’t been a Magical Girl for as long as she had, but I didn’t want her bossing me. Piper liked her. I really didn’t. We kept in touch, though.” Shaking her head, she added: “And then Piper died and I left. Well, until Stark tracked me down, anyway.”  
Tora agreed with her head, examining Loki more attentively. It made her feel uncomfortable, for more reasons than one. 

“You know that I used to have a sister?” blurted Loki out of the blue, looking directly ahead and definitely not at her companion. God dammit, Loki. Very smooth. “Parents, too. Lots of cousins. The whole package deal, really.”

The older girl blinked, caught off guard by this sudden change of direction. Then, slowly, she sat herself more comfortably and whispered: “What happened?”

“I made a wish.” replied the younger girl, her eyes hardening before darkening. Sighing deeply, Loki looked away, trying to figure out how to explain all of this. “My sister…” she let out, rather awkwardly for her standards, and tried again. “My sister… she was my best friend.”

“I had other friends, sometimes. But no one like her. No one who could…” she gulped, averting Tora’s gaze. “No one who could like me so much despite me being… all wrong.”

Tora was holding her breath at this point. She edged forward and asked, gently. “Wrong… how?”

The brunette laughed, the sound bubbling out of her filled of cynicism. “Wrong how?” Loki laughed again, fingers going through her locks. Of course Tora would ask her that. Of course she’d ask one of the things she most wanted to keep a secret. “I was spiteful and vengeful and a liar. I didn’t _mean_ to be, but it was as if…” she closed her eyes for a second. “As if my head didn’t work right. And it didn’t. There was something wrong with me. I knew it when I was a child. I was _different.”_

“I hated being different. I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be a freak. But I was.“ Loki drew a shaky breath. “It wasn’t as bad when I was small. I had my sister and she… she didn’t _understand_ , it wasn’t that. I am not even sure how much she _knew_ , but she… she didn’t care. She never cared how much of a freak I was.” A tiny smile played at the corner of the girl’s lips, before it vanished again, swallowed by a sudden darkness.

“But then I grew up and I started having these… these…” she closed her eyes, shaking her head. “These _voids_. I don’t really know how to explain them, they just happened, and they lasted for months. My head worked at the speed of light, but I felt so _tired_ , all the time. I couldn’t stop _thinking_ and I couldn’t _move…”_

She gulped, shaking her head. Even now the memories haunted her. 

“I thought I was going to die.” murmured Loki, all the emptiness inside her leaking through.

“Why did you never tell that to your sister?” Interrupted the blonde, frowning, sounding completely puzzled. 

Loki laughed, a bitter little thing that was nothing compared to how she felt. “My sister?” She repeated, looking at the other girl with deep, unreadable green eyes and a sad, sad smile.

“Yes,” confirmed the blonde, confused and bothered. “Didn’t you say she was your best friend? Didn’t she love you enough so that you could trust her?”

“She never loved me.” snapped Loki, turning her head away, her fingernails digging in her knees. “She did not. I…” her shoulders sagged again. How could she say this? How could she let this piece of her go? “My sister didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

Loki took a deep breath. 

_She has a golden smile, a huge heart and everyone loves her. It’s just natural. She isn’t doing it on purpose, she isn’t trying to steal the spotlight, but she does. She’s louder. She’s happier. She has more friends and more smiles to offer. Meanwhile Loki can’t keep her head straight and her own feelings scare her, but she can’t tell her sister, can’t, can’t, won’t, because if she knows just what a freak Loki is, she’ll loose her._

“Didn’t understand anything,” answered Loki, submerged in her memories. “Never. She had no idea. She didn’t…”

_When it’s winter she hops on Loki’s bed as if they are still little children, whining that she’s cold, and they cuddle too tightly because she is holding on to Loki like a damn octopus, her body heat searing and overwhelming. Her sister falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow, yellow strands that Loki will be picking out of her bed clothing forever in the next morning. And she doesn’t sleep, not at all, the entire night, and her heart aches so much it feels as if her head is splitting._

“She didn’t understood what I… what I… when it came to her, I…”

_She smells really good and that scent is burned into the brunette’s brain, her scent, her smile, her touch, her laughter and the way she never even once believes Loki is a bad person._

_But another void comes by, and Loki can’t do anything to stop it, no way of controlling it. It swallows her whole, and it makes her so angry, so helpless, and she can’t let her sister know, so she lies yet again. She lies and pushes her away. She lies and hurts her. She lies and avoids her parents, avoids her friends, avoids herself._

_She is a bad person._

“My sister, I… I think I have always…”

_He throws his arm around her sister’s shoulder, shy and unsure, but the girl smiles dazzling up at him, and Loki doesn’t understand. She knows her sister would never leave her (right?). It’s the only thing that kept her from giving up, no matter how wicked or sick she became, her sister wouldn’t stop loving her. But this. This feels different, more intimate, more special and private and something Loki can never touch._

_The acute pain that jabs at her chest should be no surprise._

“I think I’ve always hated her most of all,” finally concluded Loki, the pain every bit as real now as it was then.

“I can’t comprehend you,” ruffed Tora, annoyed, and it felt as if someone had twisted a knife in the girl’s guts. “First you say she was your best friend, and then you say you hated her the most. Which is it?”

“Both,” murmured Loki, staring at the blonde evenly. “It’s both. But I guess it _would_ confuse you.” She sighed, deeply, her body falling as a castle of cards, coming down with one single blown. “But that is beside the point.”

“What _is_ the point?” demanded Tora, impatient. 

“The wish I made when I contracted.” This time both her hands dug through her hair. “Here’s the short version: I did something bad. At the time, I was in the middle of a void, and it was… really hard thinking in straight lines.” Raising her head, she stared at the older girl. “But it escalated. I didn’t plan for any of that to happen, but… someone got hurt. Badly hurt.”

_Her body has too much energy that Loki simply can’t seem to burn. She needs to be out, moving, running, doing anything to prevent her thoughts from catching up with her. She needs to get out. She needs to do something._

_Before she can escape, though, her mother stops her_. Show him around, _she says, gently, but firmly._ Go on a walk while your sister and I finish up here.

 _Boiling with rage, loathing the boy, wishing him gone_ , gone, _away from her sister, and incapable of waiting, Loki goes on ahead and ignores his calls for her to slow down. She isn’t sure who she’s trying to hurt anymore. But_ everything _hurts and she has to get it out._

_It’ll be no big deal. She’ll just let him be lost for a while. She can come pick him up soon. Just a little scare, she can say she lost sight of him. Got distracted. No big deal._

_And then she hears him screaming._

“I ruined my family’s lives.” declared Loki, staring straight ahead, too much resentment already making her insensitive. “It was the worst void I ever had. Nothing helped. At some point, I was so exhausted I lost notion of time. I don’t even remember where I was or what I was doing. And then Fury found me and I wished…”

She laughed, sour and empty. “I wished I wasn’t her sister anymore. It was… so stupid…” The brunette pulled her knees tighter, resting her forehead on them. “I didn’t wish that I had never done that. I didn’t fix anything. I didn’t even wish we had _never been_ sisters. I wished we weren’t sisters _anymore_. I didn’t know… I should have, but I didn’t.”

“Know what?” questioned Tora, holding her breath. 

“I was adopted.” replied Loki, dry and short. “So what made me her sister? It wasn’t blood. It wasn’t me. It was her. As long as she thought of us as sisters, we would be sisters. So what my wish did… I…” she gulped. “My wish made everyone forget about me. My parents and my sister. Everyone I had ever known forgot who I was and what I had done. I can still remember – everything – but as far as any of them is concerned, I don’t exist.” She raised her head and stared at Tora straight in the eyes. “I never existed.”

Tora stared at the girl, sheer horror plain on her face, words failing her. She raised a hand, hesitated, outstretched it towards her shoulder, and then let it fall. Loki curled around herself, tension building in her every muscles and disappointment trying to work its way up her throat.

“But…” Tora gulped, uneasy, and the effort she was making not to touch her was clearly visible. “But what about… pictures or…”

“All gone,” interrupted Loki, her posture finally easing a little as she shook her head. “Records, pictures, videos – everything was completely erased when I made my wish. Except for my memories. And _Fury’s.”_ she added, spatting out the Incubator’s name as if it was a disgusting bug trying to crawl into her mouth.

“And what happened to your family?” Whispered Tora, sounding afraid. Loki gave her a short look, almost sideways, shaking her fringe out of her eyes.

“They went on with their lives. Last time I heard of them, they were still dealing with…” she stopped herself, before proceeding. “They don’t _remember_ anything I did, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do it. I don’t know what they think happened, but the… consequences… of my actions didn’t change. Last time I heard from them.” she repeated, cursing internally at herself.

Tora shook her head in agreement, and then stood silent for long, uncomfortable minutes.

“I do not know what to say,” she finally confessed, trying to make eye contact with Loki. 

_Of course not_ , thought Loki, bitterly. But out loud, she only shrugged. “You don’t need to say anything, Tora. I didn’t tell you any of this so we could weep together about poor old me.” Straightening herself, she let her legs dangle from the side of the three and stretched. “It’s just so you don’t go around saying any more foolishness.”

There was a small hint of smugness in her when she noticed Tora flinching at the innuendo. “I am sorry,” she whispered, sheepishly. “I did say foolish things. I did not mean to harm you.” She took a deep breath and, seeming to work up the courage, held Loki’s hand.

A jolt of electricity ran up her arm with brute suddenness. The girl stood very still, afraid of moving even an inch. Tora didn’t notice.

“Loki,” she said, slowly, leaning forward so she could look her in the eye. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I do not wish to fight you. I do believe we could work together – help each other. I do not think…” she set her lips tight. “I do not believe for a moment you are wicked.” Opening a bright smile, she added. “That is most peculiar, of course, once you did try to kill me, but… I still do not believe you are wicked.”

Loki stared at her. Before she even knew she was doing it, she replied. “I did kill Carter too, you know.”

Tora blinked at her like a sleepy puppy. “But Peggy…”

“Was trying to get out of being a Magical Girl.” finished the girl, pulling her hand away. “But there’s no backing out. Of course she didn’t _know_ what she was doing, but I drove her into it, anyway. You heard the things I said. I attacked you. Hell broke loose. And Carter broke herself.” Loki shook herself. “Tora, I’d rather you did not try to befriend me.”

“And I would rather you understand that will not keep me from trying.” replied the blonde, stubborn and absolutely set.

Loki wanted to tell her the truth so badly if felt as if she was coming apart by the seams. “Then you got yourself a big, useless headache.” She replied instead. “And there’s one more thing.”

She frowned. “What?”

“What did Carter mean by you not having used your full potential in our fight?”

“Oh.” Tora blinked, looking a bit embarrassed. “Well, I am not completely sure. I have not tried it yet, but…” there was certain smugness to her voice, now. “I believe I can use lightening.”

Loki stared at her. _“Lightening?”_ she repeated, as dry as she managed.

“Well, electricity of some kind.” explained the older girl. “I asked Fury. He says our wishes influence on our magic once we contract. It is far-fetched, but I wished for James to recover his memory… and memories are but electrical impulses in the brain. So.”

Loki could’ve guessed all of that – she knew perfectly well why her talent was ice, after all.

“So your name is Tora.” she drooled, slowly. “And you can use lightning through a hammer.”

Tora stared back at her with equal irony. “And you are the one to talk, Loki, mother of Fenrir?” she replied.

Loki glared. “Don’t talk about Fenrir.” she warned, dangerously. 

Fenrir had been one of the things she’d had when she left NY – knowing she’d saved him from that bigger dog, and that she’d been able to care for him, more or less. And Fenrir didn’t care if she had to use up most of her magic to keep the voids at bay. Fenrir didn’t care how she fought Witches, as long as she came back home in one piece. And Fenrir and Bibi were absolutely crazy about each other – that’s how she’d known she had to keep him.

And opposed to them, Loki knew what Tora would think if she told her she’d let familiars escape before. But that had been her choice. Keep her Soul Gem clean, and her mind under her control, and her life filled with some resemblance of sense. Piper might have found it in her to forgive her, if she’d told her. Tora would not.

“I _like_ Fenrir, Loki.” said Tora, heartfelt, bringing her back to the surface. “I would not speak ill of him.”

The girl shook her head. “I’ll get going, now.” she announced, getting up and sliding one feet to the branch bellow them. Tora reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Can we really not work together?” she pleaded, holding on tight. “Fighting Witches. We are short one member.”

Loki snapped her wrist free. “We are not short anyone. Carter died, you contracted. Nothing changed.”

“Why you must be so hostile, Loki?” complained Tora, following her once there was room. The younger girl transformed as soon as her feet reached the ground.

“Because I want to survive.” she replied, dryly, and walked off without waiting for an answer.

.  
.  
.

It was almost midnight, and Tora still couldn’t sleep. It was the second night in a row her brain wouldn’t stop working, and she sensed it wouldn’t be the last. Her muscles were sore, and the tip of her fingers tingled. It might have been from all the lightning she’d used today, or it might be because she was holding on to her Soul Gem. It was glowing faintly beneath the blankets, darker than it had been at the beginning of the day, innocent and unassuming.

If she didn’t know any better, she would never have guessed what it meant. Could she have had such insight a month from now? Six months? Years? _Someday?_

Could Peggy?

Tora stroked the Gem with her thumb, feeling its surface carefully. It felt like glass, cold to the touch, now matching the temperature of her hands. It didn’t have a pulse, or felt particularly alive. Its light was pretty, that much was true, but it didn’t feel all that supernatural or magical. On an intellectual level, she _knew_ it was important – that it was _herself_ , her very life – but to be honest, it didn’t _feel_ important at all.

That wasn’t her. It was her Soul, true, maybe the source of her life? But – and the girl shrunk the Gem back at this thought – there was more to her than that. She wouldn’t be who she was without her memories, or even without her body. It still mattered.

Peggy surely didn’t know what she was doing. Surely.

Just then, there was a faint rustle and a brief hint of light, and Tora heard someone’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Brenna and Brett were asleep in her room, so she had taken the couch today to give them some privacy. It could be just someone after a cup of water – still, she stilled, trying to breathe evenly and determine whether the footsteps went right or left.

They got closer to her. She hoped it wasn’t Philly, Jean or Quinn – or Nat. Was Nat here today? Wait, no, _she_ was on the couch, of course Nathan wasn’t here. But either way she hoped it wasn’t one of the older girls. She didn’t want to explain why she was still up.

“Tora?” whispered Steph, carefully, leaning against the back of the couch. “Are you awake?”

She let out a long relieved breath. 

“Yes,” agreed the girl, sitting up – there was no point pretending to Stephanie. Her friend was wearing jeans and a warm jacket, carrying her sneakers with one hand – examining her outfit, Tora leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to visit… Peggy.” answered Stephanie, after a strangled pause. “Toni told me where she… where she’s… buried.” Tora saw the girl’s fingers tightening their hold. “I was going to go tomorrow, but I can’t sleep. I just really need to…” She hesitated, embarrassed. “Would you go with me?”

“Yes.” said the girl, immediately, getting up. “Yes. Of course.” She brought out her Soul Gem, then paused. “But should we not take flowers?”

“We can pick some in the garden on our way out,” whispered Steph, fishing her keys as carefully as she could. Tora followed her, transforming on the way out, and closed the door inch by inch, making sure it didn’t make any noise. Good thing they lived in NY. Hardly anyone would be surprised she was parading around at the middle of the night wearing a cape.

Her clothes were in her room. But mostly, the outfit made her feel a tad bit more courageous.

Stephanie was really silent on their way. Her face was pale, and she didn’t even complain when Tora told her she could pay the cabbie by herself. In fact, she buried her face on her shoulder and breathed deeply, not speaking except to give directions. Tora didn’t say anything, either. She knew what her friend was thinking about.

In the end, it turned out Peggy had been buried in a real cemetery. The girl wondered how Toni had managed it – what was the procedure when someone died? And especially when the person in question had no family to speak for her? She didn’t ask, though. It wasn’t important anymore.

Tora followed Stephanie into the cemetery and they walked up until a corner hidden by an old tree, going around graves and stone angels.

“It’s that one, I think,” murmured Steph, tugging Tora’s elbow to guide her. Once they came closer, they could read the words – Toni hadn’t bothered writing much. It didn’t have any dates, or a eulogy. Only her name.

Tora felt Stephanie’s hand slipping into hers, and squeezed tight. Her friend laid her head against her arm, letting out a long sigh, and stood there for a moment.

“Steph…” called the girl, circling a thumb over her hand. “Are you okay, my friend?”

“Hm?” she raised her eyes briefly, then let them fall again. “You mean because of Peggy…?” Steph buried her face on her arm. “You know after we had that scare with that Witch…? Wasn’t that when everything began to fall apart?”

Tora remained silent.

“After that, I couldn’t… I couldn’t really believe Peggy was alive at all. I couldn’t even touch her after it. I never hugged her, and we never really… talked… anymore.” Her body shook once. “We never patched things up. I barely registered that she wasn’t dead… and now she really is.” That had been a sob. Steph was crying, wasn’t she? “I was so worried about stupid things and about myself, I didn’t even realize she was hurting. I couldn’t do anything.” Tora could feel the tears falling down her arm. “I am such an idiot.”

She passed an arm around Steph’s waist, resting her face against her hair. Her friend’s body was shaking harder now. She thought about Peggy, healing her injuries, promising her she could pay back later. About James, and how she’d been thinking so hard about him lately. About Loki – who’d contracted at twelve years old, and had been living on the streets ever since then.

 _I’m sorry, Peggy_ , she thought, holding on tighter to Stephanie as her own tears began to fall.

Some unaccounted amount of time later, Tora walked away, just out of hearing distance, to let her friend have a moment alone. Once Steph caught up with her, drying her cheeks and nodding shakily, she held her hand again and they left the cemetery.

“You’ve been fighting Witches all day?” asked the girl, lowly, as they tried to find a taxi. Tora shook her head.

“Not all day,” she explained, lowly too. “I visited James in the afternoon. And… Loki came by in the morning.”

Steph looked up at her, startled and immediately worried. “She wasn’t trying to…?”

“No, no. She did not harm me.” soother the girl, hurriedly. “She just wanted to talk.” Tora explained, vaguely: she couldn’t tell Steph the contents of that conversation – she was still trying to believe Loki had even told her any of that.

And she had no idea why, too. It made her restless.

“Do you still plan on telling… James and everyone?” inquired Stephanie, softly. “About being a Magical Girl?”

Tora hesitated – she had not given that particular issue much thought. However, as soon as she stopped to think about it, she knew what she wanted to do. So she nodded.

“I will tell James. At least.” she confirmed, solemnly. “It does not feel right to keep it from him. And my parents, too…” she paused, biting her lip. “They might react badly to it, but they would never reject me for it. I am sure.”

“Of course not.” agreed her friend, sternly, shaking her arm a bit. “Of course not, Tora. Your parents will understand. They’d never turn you away. And if you want to,” she looked stubbornly up at her. “I will help you tell them. Anything you want, okay?”

Tora considered it for a minute, then smiled. “Steph,” she said, gently. “I know that.”

Stephanie stared at her even more severely. “Good. And if you ever forget, I’ll smack you on the head.” she took a deep breath. “And none of this leaving me behind crap. You go Hunting, you take me with you. You might get hurt, and you can’t go alone. Even if Toni is with you, I’m sticking around. Understood?”

Tora felt her heart warm up a little and held on tight to her hand. “Did you and Antonia fight, Cap?” she inquired, frowning slightly, noticing a certain hostility in the way her friend said the girl’s name.  
Stephanie’s eyes darkened. “To be completely honest?” she asked, looking straight ahead. “Right now? Antonia Stark can go to hell for all that I care.”

Her friend raised her eyebrows. “Truly?”

“Ask me again tomorrow. But right now? Yes.” mumbled Steph, in a hard voice. She shook her head to chase the bad atmosphere away. “But the most important thing,” she declared, swinging their intertwined hands. “Is that we will not give up. Right?”

“Absolutely!” agreed Tora, smiling lightly. 

It took a long time to find a taxi.

.  
.  
.

_Please, don’t die. Please God, let Tora don’t die. Let her be okay. Let this all end here. Please, please be okay._

.  
.  
.

Stephanie was sure her grades would begin suffering from this soon enough. After barely getting one hour sleep that morning, she and Tora were ready to drop dead on top of their desks, and spent lunchtime napping on each other’s shoulder. 

Plus, she was avoiding Toni like the plague, and didn’t want to face the real reasons behind that. Maybe the fact Toni had flat-out told her she didn’t care for her or anyone else as much as she cared for herself. Or that Toni was alive, and Peggy was dead. Or that Steph had been worried about Toni when she should have been worrying that Peggy was suicidal.

And was now dead.

“I want to visit James.” admitted Tora, when school was finally over and they went out into the streets. Her friend seemed terribly embarrassed, and unusually nervous, but she didn’t avert her eyes and didn’t beat around the bushes. That made Steph feel better. “I have not been with him, really been with him for a very long time. I wish to… see him. Before we go Hunting. Will that be okay?”

“It’ll be more than okay, Tora.” reassured Stephanie, smiling. “You _should_ be with James. And I?” she pointed at herself. “Will go straight home and sleep myself into a coma.”

Tora chuckled, and Steph felt a bit better by it. No sense in all of them getting hopelessly depressed – after all her wish had come true. “Afterwards, you come get me?” she offered, sending the girl a stern look.  
“I will.” smiled her friend, bending to give her a loud kiss on the cheek. “I will see you later, Cap!”

“See you later!” called back Stephanie, waving as Tora run away.

She dragged herself home afterwards – her brain felt full of cotton, she was that exhausted. She only had time to kick off her shoes before falling on bed on top of the covers and falling asleep almost immediately. She didn’t wake up until after dark, when Tora came to fetch her. Going through dinner was surprisingly easy – everyone else was too busy bombarding Tora with questions, and her friend was so high on post-James bliss, she nearly didn’t have to pretend.

“They are running him through all sorts of tests,” explained Tora, between bites of yakisoba and fried chicken. “The doctors have no idea what could have cause his memories to come back – not only _before_ the accident, but _after_ it, too. They thought had had lost capacity of forming new memories. It seems the problem was elsewhere, though.”

“That’s _fascinating_.” murmured Brenna, leaning forward on her elbows, completely engrossed.

“Brenna, your chest is almost on your plate.” warned Nathan, as politely as he could, and the girl jumped back, blushing.

“Eyes up, Nat.” called Jean, almost too low to hear. The ginger opened a lazy smile and leaned against the back of the girl’s chair. He was wearing running pants and a white tank-top, having just come home with Quinn from their respective practices. 

He looked particularly handsome in those. His red hair was getting long, and he’d been pulling it back in a messy ponytail. His muscles, subtle, but well-built, were showing very nicely. And his lips were positively the sexiest ones Steph had ever seen. “Bothered, Jean?” whispered Nathan, playfully, next to her sister’s ear.

“You wish.”

 _“Get a room.”_ chorused the entire kitchen, and Jean glared at them. 

“Seriously, girls? _Seriously?_ Weren’t we talking about Tora?” she complained, chewing a big bite aggressively. They laughed, and Nathan slipped his arm further around her shoulders. She didn’t protest.

“Are they going to let him out of the hospital soon, though?” inquired Philly, swiftly stuffing a fork in Quinn’s mouth when she opened it to inquire, _again_ , if her girlfriend was positively sure her family wouldn’t mind them coming over for the weekend. Quinn made a loud “humph!” noise around the food, outraged. “They’ll be _ecstatic_ , baby, I swear. Just eat your food.”

The girls giggled. “Dr. Selving promised James he will bring him home as soon as possible. He will probably return to school at the same time he left next year,” she smiled, looking all dreamy and sappy. “So we will have plenty of time.”

Quinn swallowed forcefully. “That’s great, Tora!” she cheered, poking her girlfriend in the ribs as a mean of payback.

“You know,” said Nathan, thoughtfully, stealing food from Jean’s plates – she tried to steal it back and they had a brief cutlery fight before Jean won. “You know the party we are throwing Saturday?” he tried again, admitting defeat.

“Yes? What of it?” asked Philly, while Quinn settled back against her shoulder.

“We could move it to James’ room” suggested the boy, smiling at Tora. “We haven’t actually _met_ him. I think it’s high time we did.”

“Run.” replied Stephanie, turning to Tora. “Grab your things and run, right now.”

“Hey! What are you suggesting?!” exclaimed Jean, locking Steph in a headlock. “Anyone would be delighted to know us, Cap!”

“Run before they catch you!” cried the girl, dramatically, before her sister begun tickling her. “NOOOO!”

“My friend! I shall save you from thy foul enemy!” proclaimed Tora, swiftly yanking Stephanie from her chair and away from Jean by the waist. Her friend was laughing so hard her face was red.

“My hero!” she said, kissing the girl on the cheek. 

Just then, however, her heart squeezed painfully – she remembered Peggy, walking in when the Witch’s familiars were about to eat them, hopping quickly in the air to get away, her ribbons twirling around her fingers. And there was Toni holding her when the zombiefied Witch-Kissed were about to kill her, pinning Loki down and threatening her to let Steph go, as Peggy briefly made eye contact, and their hands resting on Tora never touched…

_I wouldn’t think about it twice._

…and her Soul Gem shattered in the pavement . 

She slid from Tora’s lap back into her own chair and let the conversation reassume around her.

“We are going out!” called Steph, by the door, after Tora _finally_ finished the dishes. They zipped the coats up and closed the door behind them hurriedly, before anyone could get the chance to ask where.

“I did not finish my homework,” groaned her friend, once they were in their way.

“You can copy mine latter,” reassured Stephanie, hurrying along.

Tora stared. “You _never_ allow me to do so.”

“Special circumstances.” mumbled the girl, trying to appear dignified. “Anyway… we should start searching. You know what to do?”

“Of course,” she smiled, bringing her Soul Gem out. “I have been waiting for my first Hunt for a long time.”

The process of actually finding a Witch had not become any less tedious in the time Stephanie hadn’t been doing it. It still involved a lot of walking around and staring at Tora’s Soul Gem. They had been at it for longer than Steph’s initial rush of adrenaline could keep up, and she was beginning to get bored, when there was a sudden reaction.

“This way!” led Tora, grabbing her hand and sprinting. 

Another rush of adrenaline went up the girl’s head and she held on tightly for her life.

.  
.  
.

“’course I wouldn’t.”

“You seem awfully sure about that.”

“It’s because I am. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. ‘course not.”

“But _why_ not?”

“Well, ‘cause…” the girl stopped, the sausage halfway to her mouth, a puzzled expression coloring her features. “I don’t know, dude. I just wouldn’t.”

Loki snorted, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know, _dude?_ Is that your best answer?” she mocked, biting her own snack. “And I told you not to call me ‘dude’.”

“Dude,” replied Piper, deadpan, waving her sausage-on-a-stick at her. “I don’t care if you are a girl. You’re a dude. I’m a dude. _Everyone’s_ a dude.”

The bubble of laughter trying to burst its way out in her throat came as a surprise – these sudden fits of giggling were becoming more and more common these days. It was unspeakably weird. She didn’t use to giggle before. “The Queen is a dude?” she asked, instead, trying to sound ironic, but only managing amused.

Piper smiled broadly. “She’s Her Dudeness.” she explained, wriggling her eyebrows.

Loki couldn’t help it – she begun laughing. “There’s something _wrong_ with you,” she said, regretting it as soon as it left her mouth. The girl froze, heart beating fast, face paling, waiting for Piper’s reaction, but the girl seemed unfazed. The wind howled around them for a moment.

“Probably,” grinned her companion, shrugging. “My parents were scientists. I bet you they made all sorts of freaky experiments on me. I could be a mutant. No, seriously! I could be – I could totally be a mutant!” But by this point they were both laughing too hard to discuss it.

After they finally quieted down enough to breathe normally and their snacks were finished, Piper looked at her thoughtfully and inquired, in a surprisingly non-invasive tone: “But why did you ask?”

Loki glanced at her. Explaining her question would entail explaining the exact nature of a Soul Gem, and she realized she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want to be the one to break it down to Piper, and especially not here and not now.

And when things were bad, when she was at the limit and her Soul Gem was too polluted – when she was terrified of having another void, but was too weak to fight a Witch, Loki had done it. She’d done it before. And it always felt as if she was out of her own skin.

“For nothing,” she told Piper, nonchalant. The girl seemed to take her word for it.

She couldn’t tell Piper the truth. 

.  
.  
.

“I’m _so_ ready to head home,” yawned Stephanie, as Tora pocketed her bright new Grief Seed. “What do you think?”

“I think it is a splendid idea,” agreed her friend, stretching lazily. Her outfit caught little reflections of light. “I have to find Fury – I do not think it is a wise idea to purify my Soul Gem before he is around to dispose of the Grief Seed.”

“I think you are right,” conceded Steph, feeling her heart twist. “But to be honest, I really wish I never needed to see him again.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m really getting the feeling we can’t trust Fury at all.”

The girl nodded solemnly, changing out of her outfit. “That was what Loki said,” she admitted, uneasily. _“I_ am getting the feeling we cannot trust anyone _at all.”_

Stephanie sighed. “I miss Peggy.”

Sadness crossed Tora’s face. She nodded gravely. “I do too.” she whispered, tiredly, as they set back towards home.

Halfway through, her Soul Gem shone again and they groaned loudly. 

“Cannot ignore it,” sighed her friend, changing directions. Steph followed suit. “Let us be done with it quickly.”

They all but dragged themselves towards the source, Tora transforming back on their way. Stepping inside the barrier, Stephanie put her defenses up, trying to be completely aware of her surroundings. Tora advanced slowly, carefully, spinning the hammer with one hand – it sparkled, sending off electricity in blue flashes. “It is but a familiar,” she informed her friend. “I shall end it soon.”

The barrier reminded Steph eerily of a nursery. It was all set in blinding, eye-twitching shades of pink and yellow, and ripped teddy bears danced at the edge of her vision. Everything was maddeningly bright, and an undefined noise kept ringing, making her ears hurt. Tora advanced towards the familiar – something that resembled a cross between a pacifier and Chuck – and threw her arm back, ready to swing her weapon.

There was a loud roar of thunder, and a flash that enveloped the barrier in a negative-color scheme. Lighting fell on the familiar, that zigzagged around it madly, trying to evade the tendrils of energy. Stephanie covered her ears, awed by the sheer potency of her friend’s power.

“You will not escape!” warned Tora, jumping forward and changing her grip on the hammer, about to bring it down violently. 

Stephanie prepared for the blow…

…and someone shot at Tora.

A bullet cut through the air, missing her hand by a millimeter, making the girl lose her balance, falling and rolling back into one knee. She stood hurriedly, ready to strike back, looking for the source of the attack.  
“And just what do you think you are doing?” inquired a voice with a British accent, calmly and somewhat snobbish. Steph’s head whipped around.

The voice belonged to a girl with striking, electric blue eyes, brown hair intricately braided to one side and a superior stance. She stared down at them as if getting ready to scold a pair of noisy neighborhood children.

And she was a Magical Girl, that much was obvious – dressed in shades of deep purple and cream, an outfit that was at the same time the most delicate Steph had seen and strangely techno-looking. The cream lines embroidered in the purple fabric created a pattern that reminded her of constellations, or neurons, or roots. She was wearing heeled shoes, much more dainty than the boots she’d grown used to. Her pants, close-fitting, went to her knees, where they ended in a discreet frilled hem. Her top had loose sleeves hooping around her arms instead of her shoulders, the kind Steph was sure could only be for decoration – however, they were loose enough they wouldn’t hold the stranger’s movement. 

Her Soul Gem, the same deep shade of purple, hung around her neck in a chocker, shaped like – ah, now Stephanie was sure. That was supposed to be a bipolar neuron. Weird. What could have been her wish that it had to do with neurons? Suddenly, she felt ten times less at ease. This person could be dangerous.

“What are _you_ doing?” replied Tora, aggressively, as the barrier around them disappeared. “You are letting it escape!”

Springing to her feet, the girl tried to chase after the familiar – the stranger narrowed her eyes, and Tora suddenly fell back to her knees, screeching in pain.

“TORA!” screamed Stephanie, hurrying to her and dropping at her side. “What’re you doing? _STOP IT!”_ she told the other Magical Girl, holding on to her friend.

The girl simply quirked one eyebrow, but Tora immediately stopped screaming. She stayed where she was, gripping her own head and breathing hard, but in once piece. “What did you do to her?!” demanded Steph, protectively putting herself in front of her friend.

“Stephanie,” warned a second voice. Fury stepped out from behind the new Magical Girl. “You should probably stay out of this. You could get hurt much more easily.”

“She attacked Tora! And she let that familiar escape!” snapped Steph, flushing in anger. 

“Ah, so you were aware it was a familiar.” commented the Magical Girl, crossing her arms. “Does your friend know nothing of the contract she made? Those don’t drop Grief Seeds.”

“I am aware of that.” growled Tora, rising to her feet. “But we cannot simply let them roam free! They will kill people if we do so.”

“Yes, little duckling, that’s _exactly_ the point.” ruffed the stranger, rolling her eyes and putting her gun back in its holder. Only now did Stephanie notice the amount of weaponry she was carrying. 

What was it with Magical Girls and _their freaking guns?_ “You let it eat a few people, turn into a Witch, and _then_ you kill those. That’s how it goes.”

Steph felt Tora tense and grip her hammer more tightly as she stepped around her. “You are talking about people! Do you really let them be murdered mercilessly in such way?! What kind of Magical Girl are you?”

The stranger laughed. “The _regular_ kind, my friend.” she retorted, superior. “New York is a big city. Plenty of Magical Girls dying and contracting all the time. Sometimes there aren’t enough Witches for everyone. If you go around killing the familiars, too? Now, where would that lead us?” she stepped forward menacingly, and so did Tora. Steph held her arm, trying to keep her back.

“Tora has contracted only a short time ago, Charlie.” remarked Fury, sitting back a safe distance away.

Something seemed to _click_ on Charlie’s mind, showing on her face. “Oh. _Tora.”_ she said, as if everything suddenly made sense. “I’ve heard plenty of you.”

That seemed to give Tora pause. “From whom?” she asked, sharply.

Charlie chuckled. “Well, perhaps ‘heard’ is not really the word. Little Loki tries her best not to think about you, but she has a hard time avoiding it.”

Stephanie could almost _feel_ how that statement unsettled Tora, like a blow to the face. “What in the hell do you mean?” she hissed, tension building in her muscles.

“Ah, the naiveté of newcomers! It’s refreshing, really.” exclaimed Charlie, merrily. “You really have no idea how much that one is lying to your face, do you?”

“Do not” growled the girl, shoving off Steph’s hand. “Talk about her like that.”

“Isn’t that _cute?”_ she mocked, pulling a gun out again. “What if I do? Then what?” she let it hang by her hip, holding it in what Stephanie was sure was faked casualty. “You know, I have no issues with you. Sure, you fledglings are a pain to deal with, but mostly I can trust you to blow yourselves up without my help.” Her eyes narrowed. “But if you start killing familiars, it becomes troublesome for me.”

“That is very unfortunate.” replied Tora, dryly, gesturing for her friend to get back. Stephanie could see they were about to go at each other’s throats. Why was it every time two of them met they begun trying to blow each other up? She was going to have grey hair in a week’s time. 

And a dead friend in the next hours if she didn’t intervene. 

“Tora.”

The girl stopped what she was about to say and turned to Steph, recognizing the tone of voice she’d used. She grabbed Tora’s wrist, pulling it down forcefully and looked her in the eye. “We aren’t gaining nothing staying here fighting with her. I can tell she’s probably very powerful, and I’m sure you know it too. I am sick of standing aside yelling for you girls to stop while you try to behead each other.” she gripped tighter and lowered her voice. “Let’s walk out this time, all right?”

“She’s a murderer, Stephanie.” whispered Tora, pointing towards Charlie, her face red. “We cannot let her walk away either!”

“So _what_ are you gonna do? _Kill her?”_ hissed Steph, forcefully. “Permanently maim her? Steal her Soul Gem? Tora, let’s _go home.”_ Her expression softened. “Please.”

She saw the girl’s shoulders sag slightly. She stood up from her fighting stance and let her hammer drop, nodding shortly once. “All right.” she agreed.

“Well?” called Charlie, who hadn’t as much as piped during their exchange. “You two reached a conclusion yet?” 

Tora sighed heavily. “I do not wish to fight you.” she said, raising her voice. “My friend and I will just leave.”

“Wonderful. I was not in the mood for it, anyway.” Suddenly, her face became vacant for a moment. She smiled, apparently to herself, and turned her head to the right. “Oh, calm yourself, Stark. I was not going to kill your little chicks.” 

Tora’s and Stephanie’s head snapped up. Toni was in fact leaning in a dark corner to Charlie’s right, expressionless except for the sharp glint to her eyes. “I never said you would.” she replied, dryly.

“You thought.” retorted Charlie, still smiling pleasantly. “But anyhow, you’re late to the party. There’s nothing to see here.” She bent to let Fury climb up to her shoulder, and put her gun back. “You should teach them better, Stark, if you are so protective of them. They could do with learning a thing or two from Loki.” She tossed a sadistic smile over her shoulder. “Of course, there might not be enough time left for it, right?”

“Get lost, Xavier.” snapped Toni, straightening. 

Laughing lowly, Charlie walked away swiftly. There was a dead silence between the three of them.

“You _really_ have to stop stalking me, Toni.” Said Stephanie, irritated. “It’s getting annoying, not to mention incredibly creepy.”

“I wasn’t after you,” replied the girl, walking towards them. “I was after _her.”_ she gestured towards Tora, appearing to be a bit fidgety.

“Me?” Tora raised one eyebrow. “What for?”

“To begin with,” sighed Toni, staring at her coldly. “To warn you _not_ to piss off Charlie Xavier. That was a dumb move.”

“I did not ‘piss her off’” grumbled Tora, unfriendly. _“She_ was the one who _shot_ at me!”

“Who _was_ she?” interrupted Steph hurriedly, glaring at the direction where she had left.

“Xavier? She’s the oldest Magical Girl in NY.” answered the girl, wearily. “In contracted years, I mean, not in age. She’s been running around for longer than anybody else. If you’d cared to pay attention,” she added, turning to Tora, “you would’ve realized she’s got a stupidly powerful Soul Gem. She’s a cheater, _and_ a bitch, but she could blow up your brains if she felt like it. We’re lucky she doesn’t actually give a shit about any of us.”

“She is that powerful?” doubted Tora, tying her hammer to her side to free her hands. “How?”

“Mind reader.” clarified Toni, dryly. “It doesn’t work so well on Witches, they don’t really _have_ a mind. But on us it works just fine. You felt it, didn’t you?” she raised an eyebrow at the girl. 

“Yes.” agreed Tora, dryly. “And it felt as if my body was drenched in boiling oil.”

“She attacks the pain terminals in the brain.” explained the older girl, her distaste clear in her voice. “Nasty, little conceited dictator, is what she is.”

Stephanie shuddered at the remembrance. Tora suddenly seemed anguished, remembering something. “What did she mean about Loki?” 

Antonia bit her lips, a small hint of true distress crossing her eyes. “She meant” said the girl, slowly, “that I should probably go check on her.”

.  
.  
.

 _Just one of the many times I lied to Piper,_ thought Loki, staring down at her arm in cold detachment. It had been a while ever since she’d last done it, but it wasn’t any more difficult. Blood dripped down her fingers steadily. It looked almost pretty.

She laughed. It was only her left arm. No matter.

Forcing her legs to support her, Loki stood up. No matter. Not important. _I’m all right._ She spun her scepter, getting ready to strike again. _I’m fine._  
Breathing hard, Loki crouched into an offensive position. What had been the damage? Bone showing in her left arm? Pretty sure she had one or two broken ribs. God only could tell the state of her legs. There was a lot of blood. 

Doesn’t matter. _I’m fine._

“Are you not going to tell her?” had inquired IC, once Piper walked away at the end of the night, back to her bed, to her family, to her almost, apparently, normal life.

“Oh, yes,” mocked Loki, rolling her eyes. “By the way, Piper, did you know that cute little furry thing you call _Sammy_ for whatever the fuck of a reason I can’t fathom, ripped out your soul from your living body and turned it into that pretty trinket of yours that shines?” she stared at IC coldly. “Grand idea.”

“I don’t see why all of you react so badly to it.” replied the panther, calmly. “It’s a valid battle strategy, just like any other. I don’t even understand why you don’t do it all the time.”

The girl put a hand over her Soul Gem, distractedly. “There’s a reason we developed the capacity to feel pain” she replied, simply, turning around and walking away, too, towards Central Park. “The lack of it makes us careless.”

“You are always pretty careful, however.” remarked the panther, following her. “Would you not be able to deal with the negative aspects of it?”

“Go away already.” replied Loki, aiming a kick at the animal. He avoided it skillfully. 

“I was only trying to reason this,” he replied, indifferent, finally leaving.

It was very easy, really. Detaching. 

You can’t feel it when your clothes rip. You don’t feel it when you get your hair cut or your nails done. It’s all dead tissue, anyway. 

But now her body was dead as well – Loki was only a Gem, condensed and pressed into herself until it became an object small enough to be concealed, and mutated enough to produce magic. Her body was no different from her clothing.

If she ignored it, it didn’t even feel pain.

It took its toll later, when she had to use magic to heal the injuries – only the life-threatening ones, ignoring the smaller cuts until they faded away – but sometimes, the need for a Grief Seed was just that urgent.

Throwing herself against the Witch, Loki landed on her knees, claws cutting into her tights as she raised her scepter. She felt the Witch’s many arms digging on her pulses, her torso, her legs, trying to get her off, but the girl burrowed her weapon on her and held as hard as she could. Ice begun to spread from the tip, the Witch dying even as it struggled to kill her.

It didn’t even hurt at all. 

She was fine.

\---she is running at the wee hours of the morning, drenched in sweat, energy burning in her muscles as if it will never end. Her sister is yelling after her to slow down, incapable of understanding Loki can’t slow down, _can’t stop_ , up until she can, and when the girl catches up with her, she is bent over, hands on her knees, panting so hard she feels queasy.

“Loki?” asks her sister, unsure, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Loki throws herself at her, burying her face on her chest and wailing like a banshee. Her sister holds her tightly enough to hurt, promising everything will be all right, but it won’t---

When did she begin laughing so loudly?, wondered Loki, idly, as the barrier fell apart around her.

_I’m fine._


	8. “I’ve Always Been Such a Liar”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts and behavior. Character with mental disorder rapidly deteriorating. Character death.

Toni stood a safe distance away from Loki, just as the barrier began to disappear. The girl was kneeling on the ground, breathing hard, muscles shaking from the exertion – that was the thing about not feeling pain. Just because you didn’t feel it, it didn’t mean you weren’t hurt.

As she watched, Loki’s Magical Girl outfit melted away and she stood, shakily, leaning on her own knees. Toni strode ahead of her and walked to the Grief Seed, picking it from the floor – the other girl stared with vacant eyes. How much blood had she lost? She put a hand firmly on her elbow and other around her waist. Loki crumbled promptly, her muscles failing.

Toni held her.

The injury to her arm was the most obvious one – followed closely by the blood loss. What had been the internal damage? Were her legs broken or was it fatigue? She had no way of knowing until Loki could tell her herself. Maybe she should take her to a hospital. How much would it cost to avoid questions? Her palm tickled as her magic worked on the girl’s beat up body.

She could feel when Loki recovered enough to realize what was happening – she pushed away from Toni, still wobbly on her feet, now for different reasons. Glaring angrily, she snapped the Grief Seed away from her hand, touching it to her Soul Gem. “I didn’t need your help.”

“You know how much it would’ve polluted your Soul Gem to heal all those injuries?” replied the older girl, stepping back.

“Yes, I do.” retorted Loki, playing close attention as her Gem was purified. “I know exactly how much Magic it takes to heal. And I didn’t need your help.”

“You had to let that Witch turn you into a rag doll to get a Grief Seed, Laufeyson.” said Toni, dryly. “How’s that not needing my help?”

Loki laughed, examining the used-up Grief Seed. The sound came like a bubbling of dark liquid, slowly filling her lungs and going up her throat. “Stark, you should know by now,” she taunted, looking over her shoulder with a broad smile. “You can’t help me at all, anymore.”

Toni narrowed her eyes. “So do you plan to do what, exactly? I can shoot your Soul Gem right now and be done with it.”

Her chuckling rose into a sudden burst of hysterical laugh. “But you won’t!” sing-sang the younger girl, turning around. “Tora will be devastated if she finds out about it, and you know how _fragile_ her Soul Gem is. And if poor, dear blondie finds out what you did…” her lips melted into a cruel grin. “She can’t be _too_ happy with you right now. You did let Carter die.”

“Walpurgis Night is coming at any time, Laufeyson.” she hissed, grabbing her by the elbow. “Do you know what will happen if you are not here to fight it?”

“Ask Tora,” drooled Loki, bored, her head rolling loosely on her neck. “She’ll jump into that opportunity.”

“She will die.”

“She’s _already_ dead.” hissed the girl, yanking her arm away. “And so are you, Stark. And _so am I.”_ The smile returned to her face, lazy and uncaring. “I’ve been dead for a long time.” Cocking her head to the side, she added, sweetly. “If you were so worried about Walpurgis Night, you would have asked Rogers to contract already. Excluding the Queen from a chess match it’s a stupid idea – if that Witch was your real concern, you wouldn’t have overlooked her.”

“You know what would happen if Stephanie contracted.” replied Toni, keeping her feelings at bay. “She’s too powerful – too unstable.”

Loki chuckled. “Heh, you think I am going to fall for that, Stark…?” she asked, sweetly. “That is not your real concern, either. If that were the case, you would simply shoot her. Why not? You would shoot _me…”_ she made a notion to move away and her feet failed her. She staggered forward several steps before regaining her balance. Toni didn’t flinch. The younger girl began laughing again. “I know why you are really so worked up about this, Stark, and I do not care.”

“So you are just gonna give up.” replied Toni, acid. “After all that happened to you, even after Par—“

An ice stake flew by Toni’s head, cutting a neat line in her ear. The girl stared at Loki silently, not moving an inch as the cut ached.

“If you _talk_ about Piper again,” hissed the younger girl, the tip of her fingers trembling. “I will kill you.”

Before Toni could answer, she had already left the place.

.  
.  
.

 _One of these days_ , thought Stephanie, staring at Toni’s house with an ominous feeling, _I’ll learn to stop prying._

Sighing, she walked up the steps towards the front door. What was up with this house, anyway? As far as she knew, Toni didn’t have any siblings, and she hated her guardian, so who was she sharing all this space with?

It wasn’t until she rang the doorbell that Stephanie realized, feeling remarkably stupid, that she probably _wasn’t_ sharing it with anyone.

Steph was seriously considering running before the door opened, when she heard a soft click, interrupting her half-formed plans. The girl looked up, taking a breath, ready to face Toni – and was promptly thrown off when she was faced with a man instead.

For half a second, she feared it was Obadiah, causing her to promptly panic, but it was short-lived. This man was younger than Obadiah, for one, with dark hair, a large forehead and broad shoulders. He was dressed sharply in a suit, staring at her curiously while keeping one hand at the door and the other at the frame, almost protectively.

“Yes? How can I help you?” he asked, friendly, but firmly.

“Hum… oh. Oh, right.” she shook her head, clearing the sudden fog in her brain. “Ahm, is Toni home?”

“What’s your name, miss?” replied the stranger, keeping the same tone of voice. There was a hint of curiosity somewhere.

“Hum, Stephanie. Rogers. Toni knows me from school…?” she explained, hesitant. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name…”

The man smiled and opened the door further, stepping a bit sideways. “I’m Hogan. Harold Hogan. I’m Miss Stark’s personal driver.”

Steph did her best not to frown – she didn’t remember him from when she had driven back here with Loki. Instead, she smiled and offered her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” said Mr. Hogan, shaking her hand firmly and nicely. “Please come in. I think Antonia is down at her workshop, so I’ll show you the way.”

Blinking in surprise, she followed the man into the house, excusing herself. They went down a stairway Steph hadn’t noticed on her previous visit, and he tapped a number combination on an electric lock to open the door. “This way, please,” he smiled, gesturing for her to come in, “you can wait by the small kitchen, there’s a couch there. I’ll go look for her.”

And before she even knew what was happening, Stephanie was alone in Toni’s workshop.

Or maybe, more accurately, Toni’s evil layer. The ambient was big, spacious, and impossibly cluttered, filled with mysterious machines, electronic displays, and various worktables. Gingerly, the girl approached what seemed to be the central one, stepping over oil stains and discarded instruments.

There were all sorts of things lying around Toni's worktables, half of them too complicated or foreign for Stephanie to guess their use - they were mostly mechanical pieces, schematics and plenty of tools, all tangled up with old pizza boxes, drained coffee mugs and used t-shirts with various unidentified stains. The place was a hell of a mess, and simply looking at it gave her a headache.

That must have been why the portrait attracted her attention so fast.

For one thing, it was surrounded by a small island of clear space, as if Toni was trying to make a point it actually belonged there, unlike the chaos around it that seemed to have been lost on its way home. Not to mention it was the only picture Steph had seen down there – a real, printed pictured, placed in an old cardboard frame, not unlike something you’d dig out of old dressers and sorted memorabilia. It was all very uncharacteristic of Toni, if this place was anything to go by.

Biting her lips and looking over her shoulder to make sure the girl wasn’t back yet, Stephanie picked up the portrait and tilted it to the light to see it better.

There were three people depicted in it, and the one to Steph’s left had to be Toni. She was sitting sideways on the arm of a tattered baby-blue armchair, holding something that looked like a small drill. She was pointing it upwards as if it were a gun, in typical James Bond fashion, trying to go for dangerous and mysterious, but laughing too hard to pull off the effect. Her arms were covered in oil up until her elbows, and so was her face and most of her shirt.

Her bare feet showed under comfy blue jeans, filled with worn-out tears and topped by a tools belt. She’d cut off the collar of her _Star Trek_ shirt, which seemed to have survived several World Wars. Her hair – much longer than Stephanie knew it – was pulled up in a tangled knot that didn’t quite manage to hold back all of it, letting some messy bangs fall around her face. All of that put together, the picture had “Toni” written all over it.

And yet, it was nothing like the Toni she knew. Not by far.

She seemed younger, to begin with – and not exactly physically younger, because her face wasn’t all that different. But the weariness that she had begun associating with her was gone, the hard edges and permanent anger completely absent. In fact, going simply by her broad smile, that showed through no matter how hard the girl had been trying not to laugh… Stephanie couldn’t remember ever seeing Toni looking this happy and relaxed.

Leaning on the other side of the chair was a younger girl, maybe thirteen or less with brown skin and curly black hair. She was trying to look intimidating, but looked entirely too happy to convey the right expression. Her clothes caught the eye immediately, with a belt, bracelets and lots of necklaces over a bright cherry-red dress and brown knee-high socks with diamond patterns. There was a scar curling around her right ear, reaching the curve of her jaw.

Steph’s eyes drifted to the third person in the picture.

It was an older man, maybe around his fifties or younger, sitting in the armchair with a blanket tossed over his lap. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and the tip of his fingers joined together in a classical super-villain stance. The only thing missing was a fat white cat. He was considerably bald, with a goatee and glasses and, much like Toni, couldn’t pull off the proper super-villain look because he was laughing too much. _Unlike_ Toni, he was dressed very neatly, with a vest over his white shirt and a discreet tie, all clean and straight.

They seemed to be having such a great time, one could easily miss the tell-tale hints of where exactly the photo had been taken: the crutches resting next to the younger girl’s side, the cane half-hidden by Toni’s leg or the man’s paleness. Not to mention the IV tubes that you could just make out connected to his left arm.

This had been taken at the hospital, after Toni’s accident.

“I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

Stephanie jumped, guiltily putting the portrait down and spinning around. Toni was leaning on the doorway, cleaning her hands in an old rag. By the looks of her, she had just blown something up – her tank top was scorched with burnt marks and her hair was standing up wildly. Impressive really, considering it was so short. It must have been some hell of an explosion.

“Sorry.” apologized Steph, reddening. She really needed to stop prying, but being near Toni seemed to have a nasty effect on that habit.

The girl shrugged. “I didn’t put it on top of the table to keep it a secret. You can look if you want to.” She dropped the rag randomly on another surface and added. “Although, don’t touch anything else. It could explode or… or bite you. Or both. Just… back away from the table, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Steph gave her a look – there was something off about Toni’s speech pattern – then obeyed, backing up. The brunette passed the tip of her fingers absently on the edge of the frame, then hopped on the table, shoving pieces of metal aside. “You were just saying…?” remarked the girl, giving a pointed look at the things she’d just pushed. She snorted.

“They won’t blow up _on me.”_

Stephanie stared at the burnt marks in her clothing.

Toni straightened her t-shirt. “Can we go back to how you were snooping through my stuff?”

“Sorry.” repeated the blonde, giving a side glance at the portrait. “It’s just that…” she trailed off, unsure.

“It’s just that… what?” asked Toni, quietly. Steph tapped her fingers against the table.

“It’s just that… I’ve never seen you looking so happy.” she finished at least, staring up guiltily behind her eyelids.

“Stop giving me that look.” said the girl, averting her eyes. Stephanie did so, too. They both stared in different directions, fidgeting with their respective clothing.

At last, Toni broke the silence, still keeping her eyes on the floor. “I was.” Steph turned her head towards her. The girl breathed deeply, looked ahead, looked at her, shrugged, unconsciously reached out to the photo. “Happy, that is.” She shifted, crossing her arms. “I mean, I was… I was walking around with a freaking cane, and the nurses were just about to drive me up the wall, but… ” She shrugged. “It was nice, you know? At least,” she pointed towards the picture and took a breath before diving in further. “They had a mechanical problem that day. Easier to convince the bunch of them to let me get off my butt when they were up to their knees in dirty water. I was going crazy already, so it was… it was nice. Not the most challenging thing I ever did, but… nice.”

Stephanie nodded, eagerly. It was odd, the way Toni was talking right now, as if something had come loose on the way from her brain to her mouth. It was flattering, scary and a bit mesmerizing.

“So who are them?” questioned the girl, holding her breath.

Toni looked at the photograph, shrugging. “That little girl is London. Slept in the room next to mine. She was getting discharged that day and asked me to take a picture together.” she paused, looking away and adding, a bit more brusquely. “She liked James Bond.”

Steph hesitated, knowing this would be a sensitive topic, but decided to ask anyway. “And him?”

“Yinsen?” replied Toni, picking up a screwdriver from the table and something that looked like a mechanical human hand. “Yinsen is…” she caught herself abruptly. _“…was…”_ corrected the girl, probably putting more force than necessary on her work. “A brilliant doctor and engineer from a small town in Afghanistan called Gulmira.” she passed her thumbs over the structure, sadly. “We met at the, ah, Rehabilitation Center. Relearning how to walk. I did.” The girl rubbed the small of her back unconsciously. “He never managed. Died of a hospital-acquired infection about a month before I got discharged.”

Stephanie examined the girl’s face. “And how did he end up in the hospital?”

Toni gave her a sour smile. “You didn’t hear of Gulmira in the news? It got gunned down by a terrorist group called the Ten Rings. Which, incidentally, had just bought their weaponry directly from my dear friend Obadiah.” she chuckled acidly. “Not that the press ever reported _that_ little detail.”

Steph’s heart missed a beat – she stared at Toni in horrified silence until the brunette reached out and made to close her mouth with her index. Their skins touched very lightly. “Yinsen was lucky he got out alive. Barely. Got rescued by ONU because, you know, he was a genius and we still had use for him.” The mockery in her tone was sour and hard. “He lied to me.” She added, sliding down to the floor. “Bastard lied to my face. He said… he said he’d get out and see his family again.” She laughed, shrugging. “Forgot to mention his family was all dead.”

The girl looked at the portrait again, examining Toni’s gleeful expression and the man’s peaceful body language. “Was he the reason why you contracted?” she whispered, looking at the brunette.

“In a way.” admitted the girl, carefully. She rubbed her temples and rolled her shoulders. “Did Happy let you in?”

“Who?”

“Happy? My driver?”

“Oh.” she blinked. “That’s his name?”

Toni shrugged. “It’s his nickname. He’s kinda of protective of me, so don’t mention the… the whole Magical Zombie thing.” She moved her hand in a circular fashion distractedly. Steph frowned. She was still weird.

“When did you last _sleep_ , Toni?”

The girl waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t know. I’m sure I slept.”

“Yes, but _when?”_ insisted Stephanie, stubbornly. Did Toni get loose-mouthed when she was sleepy? Was that it?

“Not too long ago.” replied the girl, off-handedly. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. To what do I owe your visit again?”

“What?” Steph frowned, taken off-track, before remembering what she had come for. “Oh, right. Is…” she bit her lip, hesitant. “I came because of… Loki.”

Toni’s manners seemed to harden almost instantaneity. “Loki?” she repeated, crossing her arms. “You two talked for – what? – half an hour, tops? What do you want with her?”

“Toni, cut it out, okay?” replied the blonde, tiredly. “She’s a thirteen year old homeless girl fighting monsters – sparing a thought on her makes me at least a _decent human being_ – but if you _must_ know, Tora is worried.”

“Then why isn’t Tora here?” she asked, turning around and rapidly clicking away at the touchscreens.

“Tora doesn’t trust you.” clarified Steph, bluntly, eyeing the strange graphics the girl was tinkering with. “Besides, she’s busy. Her parents are coming from Washington and James is leaving the hospital, so she’s been kind of stuck.”

Toni glanced at her over her shoulder. “Did she ask you to come or you decided by yourself?”

“I decided by myself.” answered the girl, meeting her eyes briefly.

The brunette sighed, closing one archive and opening a dozen others. “Well, what is it about Loki?”

“There’s something going on with her, isn’t it?” demanded Stephanie, standing next to Toni and trying to make her look back. “That girl, Charlie, what did she mean by not having much time left? Toni?” she reached out and touched her elbow.

The girl jerked away as if hit by lightning. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the workbench, her hands digging at the edge. “She meant,” sighed Toni, looking at her at least. “That Loki is ditching on me.”  
Stephanie frowned. “She’s what?”

“Taking off. Leaving. Jumping ships.” explained the girl, ironically. “Got fed up and decided our deal was nullified, I guess. She left this morning. Haven’t seen her since. ”

“Deal? What deal?” Steph went through her memories, trying to place the term. “Oh. You mean… Tora told me about that. Loki agreed to help you keep her from contracting, because you had… something she wanted.” she hesitated. “Was that it?”

“More or less.” agreed Toni, nodding. “Well, Tora contracted. So Loki decided she wanted nothing do to with me anymore. Besides, Charlie is a jerk.” she stared at her. “She is a Magical Girl who can read minds, Steph. She’ll say what she knows will bother us the most. You’d be better off not paying attention to what she says.”

“But did Loki leave NY?” inquired Stephanie, worriedly. “You don’t know where she is?”

“Hardly,” admitted the girl, going back to the screen. “If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be.”

“But aren’t you worried?” she insisted, exasperated.

 _“Worried?_ I’m _fuming.”_ Toni looked at her, annoyed. “She’s given me double the trouble she saved me. I don’t _care_ where she is.” she closed her tabs and walked around the table – Steph followed. “She’s a Magical Girl. As far as I am concerned, she can do what she damn well pleases.”

“How can you _say that?”_ Stephanie grabbed her arm and spun her around. She had the infuriating suspicion she wouldn’t have been able to do so had Toni not _let her_. “Don’t you care about anyone but yourself?!”

Toni snapped her arm away violently. “She tried to kill your friend! Did you forget that?” She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes fired up as she took a step ahead – Stephanie backed up. “You know what’s _your_ problem, Rogers? _You_ care for everyone _but_ yourself!” Her cheeks were flushed with blood. The girl stared open-mouthed, taken aback by this sudden outburst of genuine emotion. “She’s not a helpless little girl! She’s a _murderer!_ She’s _dangerous_ and you are _only_ a little asthmatic girl!” breathing hard, Antonia grabbed her elbow and begun yanking her away. “You are _not_ Mother Theresa, Stephanie Rogers. You are _not_ a Magical Girl. You are just an annoying, meddling bother and it’s about time you learned to keep out of our way!”

“You are _hurting me!”_ yelped Steph, struggling to get free of her grasp as they clambered up the stairs. Her heart was racing with genuine fear.

She had never been afraid of Toni before.

Antonia stopped by the door and all but slammed it open. “Stay away from Loki.” she warned, eyes glued to the floor. “Stop messing with us, Stephanie. This is no place for you, and you should stay out of this.” she took a deep breath. “For good.”

And then the brunette tossed her out and slammed the door shut.

Stephanie was shaking so badly, for the first few seconds, she couldn’t move from her place.

.  
.  
.

“For good.”

Toni breathed deeply, her hands flat against the door, her shoulders hunched. Then she heard Stephanie’s steps fading away and her knees gave out under her. She went down hard against the door, hitting her shoulder, and let herself slump for a moment.

There. She’d done it again.

“What do you _want?”_ she asked, miserably, aggressively, once the tears finally died out.

The panther’s tail twitched nonchalantly. “You have good ears – you weren’t even looking.” he remarked, lightly.

“Quit the small talk.” hissed Toni, getting up and drying her eyes. _“What_ do you want?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t tell Stephanie about Loki’s Soul Gem,” answered IC, following her towards the stairs. “Are you trying to keep it quiet?”

“Why? Are you planning to tell them?” demanded the girl, hitting him with her ankle as a warning to stay away. “Would make your job easier, wouldn’t it? If Tora knew what’s going on with Loki?” in her head, she added: _not that the stupid overly-dramatic twat realizes what it’ll do to Tora when she finds out_. Out loud she kept going: “Unless you are afraid Tora will manage to keep Loki from going full-on suicidal if she figures it out?”

“I don’t think that’s a likely outcome – Tora is much too badly informed.” disagreed the panther, mildly. “But I am in no hurry. Tora’s Soul Gem is not one of the most powerful. I’m sure I won’t have to wait long.”

“And that was all you wanted to say?” asked Toni, stopping in front of her workshop door. “Because if it is, I am always looking for new targets.”

“No, there was more.” IC tilted his head to the right. Sometimes, it was really efficient in picking up proper, empathetic body language – even if it lacked tragically in other departments. “You were rallying Loki’s help for fighting Walpurgis Night, were you not?”

“So?” said the girl, as dry as she managed.

“Now that she is not available anymore, why did you not ask Tora?”

 _Because she hates my guts_ , thought the brunette, keeping her poker face on. She knew that when the time came and Walpurgis was near, Tora _would_ help. That was just the way she functioned. Toni figured she might as well wait for an opportune moment to ask for help. Planning ahead wouldn’t be worth it at this point. She tapped at the door and glared at IC. _“Always_ looking for new targets.” she stressed, menacingly.

The panther sighed dramatically. Toni was 99% percent sure he did that _only_ to fry her nerves. “Just one more question, Antonia.” Wisely, he got to his feet, as if ready to bolt at any moment.  
“Yesterday, when Charlie confronted Tora and Stephanie, I finally realized something. At a first moment, I had assumed you had some sort of dimensional control hability.” He cocked his head, the little shit. “But it isn’t so at all, is it?”

Toni stared at him silently.

“You use a temporal control magic, don’t you?” inquired IC, almost smug, if he was capable of such a thing.

She cocked her gun discreetly. He purred lowly. “I see. I just realized this.” He took a step back. “You are not from this timeline, are you?”

Toni aimed the weapon at him. “I know what you really are, and I know what you really want.” She replied, as emotionless as he was. “I’d advise you to stop playing games with me.”

“So that’s why you are constantly in my way.” he observed, softly, ignoring her threat easily. “Do you want to change Stephanie Roger’s fate so badly?”

“Yes.” replied the girl, short, dry and final, putting her finger on the trigger. “I’ll never let you get things your way, IC.” She opened a cruel smile, feeling the familiar cold slipping back into her soul, the hatred that sometimes rendered her frozen. “Or, better said…”

He tried to bolt. She unloaded the gun on him, bullet after bullet after bullet, until the weapon was steaming in her hand. Pasty meat, fur and blood rained on the stairs, sticking to the floor, to the handrail, to the walls.

“I’ll never let you get to Stephanie,” Toni hissed at his remains, letting the gun clatter to the floor _“Incubator.”_

.  
.  
.

“Stephanie? Steph, what has happened? Cap? Will you not talk to me?” Tora hesitated, her hand hovering just above her head. “…was it Antonia?”

Stephanie turned around and buried her face on Tora’s stomach, sobbing.

.  
.  
.

“Any luck yet?” asked Steph, tiredly, pushing her hair out of the way. Tora sighed, climbing down to the street level and changing out of her Magical Girl outfit.

“No luck,” she answered, tiredly, shaking her head. “Loki is nowhere to be found. I tried looking for Fenrir, too, and nothing.”

“And Bibi?” replied the girl, leaning against the wall. Tora shook her head again.

“I have never seen her. I doubt I could find her.” she explained, disheartened. Her stomach rumbled, and Steph’s echoed the sound on cue.

“It’s pretty late,” murmured the blonde, rolling her shoulders. “Maybe we should call it quit for the night.”

“The weather is growing colder.” remarked Tora, looking worriedly up at the sky. “Soon it will start snowing. She will not be fine if she has no place to stay.”

“Didn’t she already survive a NY winter?” asked Stephanie, nudging her, trying to calm her down. Her friend shook her head.

“She had _someplace_ to stay, then.” explained the girl, her eyes still glued to the sky. Piper, whoever she had been, wouldn’t have let Loki sleep in a park when it was snowing, would she?

Unless Piper had no home, either?

Her heart squeezed painfully. She looked over her shoulder, scanning her surroundings anxiously. What had Loki been eating? Did she still have Antonia’s credit card? She seemed to be permanently starved – how did she manage food by herself? What if she’d gotten hurt by a Witch? By another Magical Girl? And there was so little of her to resist cold weather…

“Maybe…” whispered Tora, slowly, pained. “Maybe we should ask Xavier.”

Stephanie gave her a long, hard, unbelieving look. “Xavier? Charlie Xavier? The one that lets familiars run free killing regular people and messes with other Magical Girl heads? _That_ one?”

“I _know.”_ sighed her friend, feeling ashamed of herself. “I like her no more than you, my friend. To be honest, _no one_ likes Xavier.” she cast another uneasy glance around. “But she is a Magical Girl’s last resort – that is what all the other girls told us. She will do most anything for a price. And she is a powerful mind reader.” lowering her voice, she added, pleadingly. “She could be our only chance of finding Loki.”

Steph fidgeted awkwardly. “But Tora…”

“It has been a _week.”_ begged the girl, quietly.

And it had been simultaneously the best and worst week of her life.

It had been the best because _James was back_. Her parents were visiting to see it in person. Dr. Selving was beaming all the time now. Darcy came too, cursed like a sailor and proceeded to take anything heavier than a book out of James’ hands when helping him settle into his new home. There had been enough food, courtesy of Quinn, to bend the dinner table’s legs. Her friends had slightly overwhelmed James, but he took it all on stride, keeping one hand in hers and bonding with Brenna over chocolate bombs while Nat and Philly had an epic DDR contest in the living room.

And after saying goodbye to James, when they finally managed to stop kissing as if they were breathing each other’s lungs, Stephanie and Tora sneaked out of the house on their socks, carrying along an extra coat.

And that’s where the worst week of her life came into play. Loki had gone missing a week ago – in-between fighting Witches and familiars, Tora had been looking for her. Other Magical Girls were not only unhelpful, but, most of times, downright antagonistic. Peggy, Toni, Loki, even Charlie, had not been lying: they hated each other’s guts.

Tora’s Magical Girl duties would’ve been exhausting by themselves, but with the added hassle of fending off other girls, looking for Loki, and keeping it all under covers, she could hardly remember the last time she had properly slept. She _was_ going to tell them about all this – _really_ , she was. But right now, it wasn’t only her secrets that hang in the balance. If she was going to come clean about all of this, she couldn’t keep out the fact she’d been searching for Loki. But then she’d have to tell them all about her – tell them she was a Magical Girl, which in itself felt like a betrayal. But also explain about her wish gone wrong and about Toni, which then would be a betrayal to Stephanie as well.

Because on top of this whole mess, Steph wasn’t much better than she was.

For one thing, she’d insisted on accompanying Tora every single night, and honestly, the girl didn’t want to do this alone – so she agreed. But Steph hardly had the same stamina, or, let’s face it, magical zombie body, to keep up as well as she had. Not to mention she was wrecked – while Tora had James and hope, however tiny, of finding Loki, Steph had lost Peggy and then Toni had done the tango on top of her heart.  
She was grieving, dead tired, worried and probably about to come down with a cold.

“All right,” sighed Stephanie, buttoning her coat further up. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s ask Xavier.” she took a deep breath. “But not today. We can barely stay on our feet.”

Tora nodded, gravely. “Can I give you a ride home?”

She expected Steph to object, but she didn’t. She nodded gratefully and climbed on her friend’s back, resting her head against her shoulder. Tora hooked her hands under her knees and hoisted her up, walking home carefully not to wake Stephanie up.

.  
.  
.

It was funny how similar all of this was to her voids. And, at the same time, how different.

The most obvious difference, she soon concluded, was the speed of her thoughts. When in a void, most commonly, she could not shut her head up. It cooked feverish thoughts 24-7, filling her eyes with bad images and her heart with ominous dread. Her brain worked on such frenzy her body simply couldn’t keep up – before it could satisfactorily obey one command, another one had already taken its place. So it just froze in unending tiredness, trapping her in herself, in her own boiling mind.

But right now, her thoughts were going so slow, it felt like swimming through oil. It was hard to come up with any coherent rationalizing – words failed her. A heavy mist settled over her mind, sticking wetly to the corners of her consciousness until all she could feel was a mild, persistent sense of defeat. Her body was going completely pins-and-needles, and she was sure she was feeling less and less of it by the hour. It was as if she’d been drugged.

It was nowhere as bad as her voids. She knew why this was happening. She knew it would soon end. It almost didn’t hurt at all.

Now, if she could only get out of the sun. Find a nice shady spot to curl up and rest until all was over. That’d be nice.

It took her a couple of minutes to realize the ruckus going on in her ears wasn’t simply in her own head. She blinked, trying to make the world come into focus. It was becoming remarkably easier to lose control of her body – sight, hearing, touch faded away like a TV with bad signal. Most of the time the girl didn’t even realize they were gone. Mustering up some kind of willpower, Loki managed to clear her vision again. It took another couple of minutes to actually make sense of what she was seeing.

It was a ballet school.

Loki blinked again. Yes, she was standing in front of a ballet school. It _must_ have been a ballet school, with kids and teenagers pouring out alike – little girls carrying pink tutus on one hand and soft slippers on the other. They were the loudest, jumping and speaking and giggling, their hair pulled back with varied hair ties, going from pink to orange to electric green to a black-and-red rock-n-roll thing-y. There were a few boys in the mess, with short haircuts and white slippers, mingling with the girls.

The boy percentage grew higher amongst the older dancers. Some of them carried two bags while gesturing a lot to some of the girls – probably their partners, concluded some far-off part of her brain. They exited the building a bit more orderly, with bags slung over a shoulder and hair tightly pulled back in a bun, mostly heading for a nearby bus stop.

It took Loki even more time to realize why the scene had caught her attention at all: it was a little boy by the front door, standing next to a woman who was probably his teacher. He must have been about six years old, and was wearing ballet tights and a Wonder Woman t-shirt, clenching his backpack stripes until his knuckles turned white. He looked worried, anxious and a bit teary, even as the teacher talked to him soothingly.

Loki couldn’t tear his eyes from him. The sidewalk emptied steadily, the noise dying out, cars driving away, and yet the boy stayed where he was, swaying on his feet.

Finally, she heard a car parking behind her, but didn’t turn. A woman climbed out and the little boy perked up, opening a bright smile – the woman run to him and he run down the stairs, jumping on her arms. She then seemed to apologize to the teacher, trying to do something about her messy her as the kid happily waited for his mom to finish talking. He waved to his teacher cheerfully and they went on their way.

She forced feeling back into her hand, and started as it twitched in agony. Had she hurt her hand? When that had happened? Had she lost touch with that part of her body for long enough to let it become this bad? Too tired to look at it, she simply let it go again and tried the other hand, which was working fairly better. She fished her cellphone – where had she gotten it, again? – and accessed the internet, typing “Norway Ambassador Wiki”.

She hated the pictured that accompanied the short article. Wegger had his arm around Elin and one hand on Tora’s shoulder – it had been taken at some charity event or something. She couldn’t remember it anymore. She had mildly disliked it before IC – people at school just loved googling it, and she had come out in the middle of speaking, which made her face look really weird. After her wish, though, she’d begun hating it with a new passion. Because she wasn’t in it anymore.

Elin’s arm used to be around her shoulders. She looked beautiful, smart and elegant. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement, a small smile playing on her lips. Before, Elin had been looking at her. She had been listening to her, and that’s why she was smiling. Now, she was staring at Tora.

_She is six years old, and has been chosen for an important role in the school play – not the main one because it’s the older kids who make up most of the cast, but an important one anyway. She has the most number of lines in her class – and she has practiced every single one of them on the far side of the garden, to keep it a secret._

_Loki didn’t even need help getting into her costume. She’d only asked the teacher to zip it up, but not even her mother can zip up by herself, so that’s okay._

_She’s ready!_

_Tora and dad are already sitting in the audience. Even her grandmother came, armed with one of her aunt’s video camera. Her grandmother really has something about taping family events. So that means she has to do her best of best._

_But mother is late._

_Loki knows_ why _– dad explained it. She’d been out visiting a friend and got stuck in a terrible traffic jam. That had been some time ago, and mom still hadn’t arrived._

_So Loki, against the insistence of her teacher, was still waiting for her._

_“Loki, honey,”_ _argues the woman, standing on the backdoor by her in the chilly cold._ _“I’m sure your mom did her best to get here in time – but the play is beginning. You need to come inside.”_

_“She’s coming,” promises the girl, clutching her bear ears tiara tightly in her hands.  “She is, teacher. She’ll be here at any time, now. I swear.”_

_“And I believe you, Loki,” reassures the teacher, gently.  “She can always come inside during the play. But everyone else is ready, and the play is beginning. If you don’t come inside, you’ll miss your spot.”_

_“Just five more minutes,” begs the girl, nearly in tears. She’d been looking forward to this for so much time!  “Please? Just five more minutes?”_

_“Ah, honey, I don’t know…” the woman bit her lips, obviously hating to say no, but not allowed to say yes.  It wouldn’t be right to make everyone else wait. Would you feel better if someone let you know when your mom arrives?”_

_Loki heart sinks. “Okey.” she agrees, faintly. It isn’t fair for everyone’s play to be ruined just because of her. And dad and Tora and grandmother are inside already – she can’t let them down, can she? “She can enter after it begins, right? They won’t…”_

_“Loki!”_

_Her heart does a double take and she whips around beaming widely. Her mom is running towards her, unmistakable in her familiar clothes, ponytail bobbing in the wind, waving frenetically at them._

“You came!” _she shrieks with joy, jumping up and down, as her mother runs up the stairs. “You made it! You did it! You did!” She throws herself at her mother, hugging her tightly on tiptoe._

_The woman is gasping for breath. “Hello, baby,” she loops one arm tightly around Loki’s waist, squeezing her, and breathlessly apologizes. “Sorry I’m late.”_

_“Mommy!” exclaims Loki, letting go of her neck in bewilderment.  “You are panting! How did you get here?” And then comprehension downs on her. “You ran all the way through?” She can’t keep the awe and wonder away from her face. “Because of me?”_

_Her mother is catching her breath, and seems absolutely sidetracked by her tone of voice. “Of course I did, Loki,” she says, as if it’s preposterous to think otherwise. “How else would I be in time to see my beautiful daughter shine in the stage?”_

_Loki has only barely managed to wipe off the cheek-splitting grin in her face when her mom shakes herself up. “Well, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, we’re late already!” she swoops Loki up swiftly, resting her on the curve of her hip, “You have a play to make!”_

_The girl giggles, bursting with excitement, as the teacher urges them inside._

_It’s her best performance to the date, and afterwards they go out to her favorite restaurant. Loki hardly thinks she’s ever been this happy._

But Elin Odinson didn’t know she existed anymore. 

“Mommy” whispered Loki, so low she herself almost didn’t hear it.

The phone dropped to the sidewalk, the screen shattering promptly and the batteries disappearing in the street.

.  
.  
.

Finding Charlie’s home was easy. The girl was practically the Godfather of the Magical Girl community. She lived in an old fashioned mansion, with large gardens and high arcs that looked eerily out of place in 21º Century New York City.

As instructed by Jane R. – the only one who’d give them any information – they rang on the back door and told the maid they were from Charlie’s “prep school”. She let them in, sat them at the kitchen and offered a soda. When they refused politely, she left to fetch the girl.

“Is there some sort of rule that says Magical Girls can only be either filthy rich or homeless?” muttered Tora under her breath when the waiting begun to stretch. Steph suppressed a yawn. 

“Oh, my,” exclaimed Charlie, entering the kitchen. She wore formal clothes as if they were her pajamas – a fresh pressed shirt, buttoned up flawlessly. A vest, was she wearing a _vest?_ And a knee-length skirt. It made her look more beautiful, but older. “That’s an unexpected surprise. Defender of Justice and her loyal sidekick knocking at my door? I’m positively shocked.”

Tora sent her a look that clearly spelled _Let me strangle her_ , before turning back to Charlie in a dry, serious manner. “We need your help. We were told you are willing to do us a favor for a price.”

Tora’s tone seemed to throw the girl off somewhat – she raised an eyebrow and sat across them on the table, resting her hands on top of it. “You heard right,” she said, considerably more somber. “What can I do to help you?”

Stephanie shot her friend a look. She could see Tora clenching her hands under the table. “We want to find someone.”

“Loki?” replied Charlie, on the spot, sounding incredulous. 

Tora’s face whitened. “Please do not read my thoughts.” She let out, tensely.

“I’m not,” denied the other girl, intrigued. “I’m putting two and two together. You reacted to her pretty strongly the first time we met.” She begun tapping the table. “And I’m well aware of her situation right now.”

Steph’s heart jumped on her chest just as her friend practically bolted forward in her chair. “What do you mean?”

Charlie looked, _almost_ , as if she was feeling pity. “I suppose none of the girls bothered telling you. Loki’s Soul Gem is very polluted. She is in no state to defeat Witches,” now Steph could _definitely_ see a glimpse of pity, almost compassion, in the girl’s features. “If it’s not cleansed soon, something really bad will happen.”

They looked at each other again. “Bad…?” repeated Tora, darkly.

“Bad how?” interjected Stephanie, looking at Charlie. The girl shook her head.

“The worst.” she answered, cryptically. “You could get badly hurt. Are you sure you don’t prefer to simply let her go?”

“No.” reassured Tora, immediately. “I will not let her be hurt.”

Charlie stared at her in silence. Steph noticed she had a tattoo on her left wrist – a dark feather. Did it mean something? Finally, the girl sighed and got up. “Very well. This will take just a moment.”

“Wait,” called her friend, blinking, “what about the price?”

The Magical Girl opened a sly smile. “Good thinking.” She brushed her clothes, straightening the already impeccable shirt. “Your father is an ambassador, isn’t he?” She smiled again. “You can owe me one good word of introduction if I ever have the need. That’ll do.”

Stephanie could practically _hear_ the answer Tora was dying to give, but she just nodded. Charlie nodded back and excused herself, disappearing through the door she came. After she left, they stayed in exhausted silence – if she could, she’d drop on the table right now and sleep for twelve hours straight. 

Charlie didn’t take long – she came back with a printed Google Maps page, a single location marked in red with its address written underneath. “She’s there.” informed the girl, sliding the paper towards Tora. “It’s a loading area. Pretty deserted by now.”

“She’ll still be there by the time we arrive?” asked Tora, getting up. Steph followed hurriedly.

“Yes.” replied Charlie, surely. “She’s not going anywhere so soon.”

On this ominous note, Stephanie and Tora thanked her and run outside hurriedly, barely bothering to stay low on their way.

.  
.  
.

_I’m never going to see any of you ever again._

.  
.  
.

When they finally found her, Tora heart broke into dust, and the pain surprised even herself. 

Truth be told, she hadn’t been able to understand, in any level, why she cared so much about Loki. Why she trusted her so implicitly when there was so little evidence to say the girl was worthy of it. Or why she had been going out of her mind with worry this past week, as if something truly apocalyptical would happen were she to never see Loki again.

But the amount of pain that she felt seeing the girl’s state now? Few things had ever hurt so much in her life, and she could name the most recent of those things on the spot: the day of James’ accident.

She should never have invited him for that camping trip. She should never have taken her eyes off him. She should have told him more emphatically not to wonder off on his own. 

She shouldn’t have let Loki go that day at the park.

The girl was sitting by the back door of a shop, shrunken and balled-up in a tight corner. Her eyes were closed, but it didn’t look as if she was sleeping. Even from this distance, Tora could see she was even paler and thinner than last time she’d seen her. 

Breathing hard, Tora barely noticed when Stephanie let herself linger behind, out of ear shot, at a safe distance.

“Loki.” she called out softly, approaching slowly. 

The younger girl’s shoulders tensed up in a jerk of surprise. Sluggishly, she raised her head, blinking like a sleepy cat at the street lights, until her eyes finally focused – a long time latter.

“Tora,” she answered, and the affection in her voice brought immediate tears to the girl’s eyes. “That’s odd. I didn’t think I’d begin hallucinating.” 

Tora froze on the spot, her hand still outstretched towards her. Instead, she lowered herself on the step next to Loki, and, carefully, answered: “You are not hallucinating.” 

“Am not?” her demeanor changed, but only slightly. She moved as if every joint was cracking, straightening her body out of the little ball she had recoiled into. Her head tilted. “What are you doing here, then?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” she explained, chest tight, and then something “clicked” in her brain. “Wait, why are you talking in Norwegian?”

“Hmmm.” Loki chuckled and closed her eyes for a second longer than necessary. “Norwegian is my first language. I guess I’m just… too tired… to remember how to speak English.” 

There was a dreadful, slimy feeling crawling up Tora’s spine. She swallowed. “Where are Fenrir and Bibi?”

“‘m not sure.” Admitted the girl, almost dreamily. She began feeling around inside her shirt. “I _think_ I left them somewhere.”

Tora’s heart squeezed so tightly with fear she felt as if she was going to pass out. _“Why?”_

Loki begun giggling, a small, hysterical sound that sent chills under her skin. She giggled harder and harder as she slowly pulled her Soul Gem out of her shirt. The girl was so worried about the broken laughing, it took her a long while to realize why she’d done so.

And when she did, she truly and completely panicked. “Your Soul Gem!” called out Tora, snapping it away from Loki’s fingers and holding it between her palms. The nearly eerie green glow she’d expected had disappeared completely – now the Gem was an ugly shade of swamp mud, almost black. “What happened to it?!”

Loki giggled once more and then stopped, leaning her head against the door frame, an ironic, tired smile playing on her lips. “You’d think,” she said, faintly, if amused, “that people would be a bit more polite about grabbing other girl’s Soul Gems without permission when they know what they actually are.”

Tora blushed furiously and let it go as if it had bitten her. “I’m sorry.” she blurted out, ashamed.

Loki laughed, this time a drained, dismissive puff of breath. “Doesn’t matter. It’s no different from the way it was before.”

The girl blinked, confused and still very much afraid. “Before?” she repeated, tentatively. 

“Hm.” confirmed the brunette, not looking at her – her eyes were lost in the distance, almost nostalgic. “Not that you _knew_ what you were doing. I don’t suppose you ever knew the effect you had in me.”

“Loki, what are you _talking about?”_ pleaded Tora, beginning to get desperate. She didn’t know any more if she could handle this situation.

Loki blinked, as if coming down from a dream and looked at her again. “Oh, that’s right. You forgot.” She dropped her eyes to her Soul Gem, and her bangs covered her face. “It’s funny, isn’t it? I ended up doing the exact same thing to myself that I did to you.”

There was now a distinctive watery edge to her voice that made the girl itch to push her hair away. “Loki…”

“Fitting, I suppose. Ironic, but fitting.” half-chuckled, half-sobbed the brunette. “I ruined everyone’s life and just when I had the chance of fixing it, I screwed it up and got myself the proper pay-back, instead.” 

She passed a thumb over her Soul Gem, almost caressing it. “I _told_ myself I was trying to do better by protecting you from IC. It’s a very obvious lie, don’t you think?” 

Before Tora could answer, or even make sense of the words, Loki kept going: “But then again…” she raised her face. There were trails of tears going down her cheeks. She looked painfully young, desperate and sad to her very bones. Her green eyes were the brightest she’d ever seen, completely see-through. “I’ve _always_ been such a liar.”

The tears fell down her chin, raining on top of her Gem.

_Pling._

And as Tora sat there, trying to catch her breath around the enormous, _monstrous_ amount of pain that had surfaced in her chest, Loki’s Soul Gem shattered violently.

The girl got hit by a brute wave of force that knocked her back like a car collision. She screamed and tried to roll, as yet wave after wave of magic rolled over her body and knocked her back down. “LOKI!” yelled Tora, grabbing the first thing she could get hold of, trying to locate the girl.

The thing she had grabbed was cold and slippery to touch – like ice.

The floor under her was swaying like fabric. The street lights begun flickering. A sense of _wrongness_ settled inside her, even as her instincts kicked on first gear, sensing near danger.  
The girl looked around, seeing tall walls sprout around her, the temperature drop and reality itself wrapping. 

There was a Witch Labyrinth growing around her.

And Loki was lying on the increasingly unstable floor exactly where she’d been just now, unmoving, pale and loose-limbed, as if she was…

The Witch wailed loudly enough to burst Tora’s eardrums. And everything became hell. 

.  
.  
.

Fury watched the Labyrinth forming from outside. Its range hadn’t been wide enough to pull Stephanie in, apparently. From where it stood, it could see the young girl grabbing her cellphone, looking around cluelessly, as she could not spot the entrance by herself. 

So Tora and Stephanie had found out about it either way, it seemed. If Antonia was correct, this could push Tora over her edge. That is, if she could figure out the truth about herself and Loki. Fury suspected some residual magic from Loki’s wish might be keeping the girl at bay – otherwise, it would have thought she’d already made the connections.

But now that Loki no longer was a Magical Girl, the magic would become pointless.

At the same time, on the other end of the city, there was another Soul Gem nearing its corruption limit. There was another girl screaming at it, holding her Gem between her hands as if it would keep it safe. Even now it couldn’t understand why they always reacted so badly.

“In your language,” it was explaining, reasonably, “a female who’s yet to become an adult is called a ‘girl’, right? It only makes sense that you, who are yet to become Witches, are called ‘Magical Girls’.”

The girl screamed as her Soul Gem shattered. Loki’s Labyrinth was now fully spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changing the font for the Norwegian parts is a PAIN IN THE ASS. I'll tell you that.
> 
> Well, guys! Next chapter is one of the longest in the history, and I'm quite proud of it. It'll be quite different from PMMM's episode nine, so hold on to your hats. I hope you have liked this one, as it is one of my favorite!


	9. "I Want to Sleep"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: character with serious undiagnosed mental disorder, including deteriorating of her condition, and being manipulated through her disorder. Character death. Child abandonment and homelessness. Suicidal thoughts and behavior.
> 
> All in all, Loki goes through a lot in this chapter. I've tried my best to portray her disorder correctly, but please feel free to correct me if I have done anything wrong, or if I forgot any warning. Be safe when reading it. Thank you.
> 
> EDIT (August 8º, 2013): hey, everyone! I just realized, re-reading this chapter, that Loki's lines upon meeting Piper are, in fact, incredibly ableist. I'm really sorry about my mistake, and I've already corrected it. Once again, if anyone sees anything problematic in my fic, and feels comfortable doing so, please call me out on it. Thank you and I hope you enjoy the fic!

The first time it happens, Loki is too young and forgets about it. 

She’s three, which means Tora’s five, and they are playing on the see-saw in their backyard. Mother is watching them from the kitchen window. It’s cloudy outside, and maybe it’ll rain later. 

But even if it does, Loki wouldn’t want to go back inside.

She’s giggling so hard she can’t even form words. The wind is making her hair flap around her face, which normally would bother her, but today seems remarkably funny. She’s still tiny, considerably tinier than her older sister, which means Tora will usually pay attention and go easier if she sees Loki is getting scared.

She’s not scared today.

“Higher!”  squeals the little girl, kicking her legs in the air, delighted.

“I _can’t_ go higher,”  laughs Tora, leaning back to keep her in the air. It’s rare the day when she gets to really play rough with her little sister, and she’s enjoying this every bit as much as Loki.  “But I can go _faster!”_

 _“WAAAAAAH!”_ shrieks the brunette, her face red with joy as she drops from the sky again. 

They are still laughing and screaming when mother finally comes to fetch them.  “All right, you two little rabbits,”  she calls, walking towards them,  “come inside wash up for dinner.” 

“Yes, mother!”  agrees Tora, easily, letting the woman snatch her from up in the air so Loki can climb out in safe ground. 

Loki suddenly feels her heart plummet, as if someone has abruptly cut off the lights inside her head.  “No!”  she cries out, wiggling away from her mother’s grasp.  “Don’t wanna!” 

“Loki,”  says Elin, surprised, putting her older daughter down. Her youngest is usually so polite and obedient, and shouldn’t she be starving by now?  “Why not, baby?” 

“Don’t wanna! Don’t wanna!”  repeats the little girl, her face now flushed with anger. Honestly, Loki can’t pinpoint exactly _why_ she doesn’t want to, herself. She just knows she suddenly feels very, very angry. It’s intense and abrupt and clogs her head.

“Were you having a lot of fun playing with your sister?”  asks the woman, understanding, crouching down to be at level with her. She’s usually good at speaking with them – she can see maybe Loki wants to play more, just this once. It’s not a big deal.

But there’s no talking to the girl – she’s furious and hotheaded and after an exhausting attempt to try to get her to talk, Elin is forced to admit this won’t work today. So she fetches the girl up and brings her inside against her protests.

The wave of sadness that crashes over her makes Loki begin to sob heartbrokenly, and yet, she doesn’t really understand what’s making her so sad.

That’s just the first time it happens.

By the time she’s old enough to realize these emotions don’t actually feel as if they belong to her, the adults are already used to Loki’s wild mood swings. So no one notices anything wrong.

Except Loki herself.

.  
.  
.

It’s the anger that first makes her realize something’s wrong.

The problems actually begin when she starts school. On her first day, she’s buzzing with excitement, pestering Tora and her father with questions the entire way.  “You’re gonna be right in the next corridor, right?”  she asks her sister, anxiously, as they begin nearing the school building.  “If I need to – I _won’t_ need to – but _if_ I need to… I can come and see you, right? Right, Tora?”  she tugs at her sister’s clothing insistently.  “You’re not going to pretend you don’t know me, are you?”

“Of course not!”  fesses up Tora, stopping to crush her in a hug.  “If anyone is mean to you, you can come to my class and I’m going to bite them!”  she begins tickling Loki and making zombie noises at her. The girl giggles.

“Don’t be so _silly!”_ she says, rolling her eyes and shoving her off amicably.  _“No one_ is going to be mean at me.”  and, a bit more insecurely, she turns to her father,  “Right?”

“Absolutely right,”  agrees the man, affectionately, crouching down to hold her up.  “You’ll make many new friends. And your teacher won’t let anyone be mean. She was Tora’s teacher too, remember?”

“She’s cool,”  confirms the girl, easily, holding on to her father’s free hand as he holds Loki with the other arm.  “You just can’t steal other kids’ turns. She gets _real_ mad when you do that.”

“I never steal anything.”  mutters the brunette, primly.

“And first year is easy,”  adds her sister, encouragingly.  “You already know the alphabet, anyway. You could probably start a year ahead.”

“But daddy said it’s important to make friends my age!”  exclaims Loki, anxiously, looking at her father for reassurance. He smiles, comforting, and pats her hair – the girl holds his hand with both of hers.  “No! You’ll mess mommy’s braiding!”  warns the girl, mindful of the beautiful hairdo Elin had made.

“Oh, sorry, Loki,”  apologizes Webber, rubbing her back instead.  “You’ll do great in school, princess. You’re smart, polite, and you’ll see how many new friends you’ll make.”  he kissed her forehead.  “Your mother will come pick you and your sister up when the classes are over. Are you ready?”

“Ready.”  breaths Loki, squeezing him and climbing down obediently.  “Bye, daddy!”

“Bye, dad!”  echoes Tora, taking her sister’s hand and waving at the man.  “I’m gonna go with you to your class, okay?”  she tells Loki, leading her through the hallways filled with noisy children. 

Loki’s heart is beating fast. She’s excited, and nervous, and giddy. She _wants_ to make new friends, like the ones Tora brings home to play with after school. But maybe not exactly like them – they are very loud and obnoxious and they annoy her sometimes. Maybe she could meet someone more like her. 

There _has_ to be someone like her, right?

Her day is going well up until it isn’t. Her heart is just beginning to calm down, but for some reason – and Loki really can’t understand why – she begins to get irritated. As if her patience is wearing thin. She isn’t mad at _someone_ , or _something_. Just… annoyed. On edge.

So she tries to distance herself, get a peaceful moment alone to calm down without snapping at anyone. The kids are scattered around the room playing in small clutters. She goes to the shelf and grabs a building block game, similar to the one she has at home, then walks with it to an empty corner, relatively silent, and sits down to play.

She is immersed in it, building a castle with her hands as she builds the history in her head – the castle belonged to King Oatmeal, married to Queen Honey, who’d been a hero in the war against the vicious Rat Kingdom… 

“Loki, what are you doing?” 

Startled, the girl snaps out of her fantasy world to face her teacher, who has crouched down next to her. She smiles largely, excited, and begins explaining.  “I’m making a castle, teacher! See, this here that I’m doing right now is the Main Hall, and it’s _a bit_ tiny for a castle, but I always thought they didn’t need that much space anyway – so I’m leaving more room for the library and the cuisines, and _here_ I…”

“No, no, honey,”  interrupts the woman, gently,  “I meant, why are playing alone?” 

Loki blinks at her, confused. She looks down at her castle and up again.  “You can’t play building blocks with other people,”  she replies, slowly, almost afraid.  “It’s… it’s to play alone.”  She hugs the block in her hand to her chest.  “I _was_ playing with everyone else.”  she promises, earnestly.  “But I got tired.” 

The teacher bites her lip, shuffling closer to Loki.  “But now it’s time to play with everyone else,”  she explains, gently, taking the block out of her hand.  “The other kids will be hurt if they think you don’t want to play with them, you understand?”

 _No,_ thinks the girl, absolutely perplexed. She’d been playing with the other kids _all day_. Why would they think her playing alone has anything to do with not liking them? But she doesn’t want to contradict the teacher in her first day, so she just nods.  “Okay,”  she agrees, letting the woman help her up.

But being back amidst them makes Loki’s irritation spark up again. She feels tired, and the noise is making it hard to concentrate. She’s never felt comfortable with needing to raise her voice.

When she finally gets a spot for speaking, another boy speaks over her, not realizing she meant to.

Afterwards, Loki doesn’t understand why she would hit him. She doesn’t understand what made her so angry.

 _Why did I do that?,_ she thinks, horrified, as the other kid begins to cry and the teacher pulls her away from him. 

.  
.  
.

Now that Loki’s beginning to pay attention, she’s noticing all the little things that are off about her.

She’s always assumed the sudden jolts of energy she gets are natural – Tora, after all, has always kept up with them, has actually been _gleeful_ about them, because it means they’ll go outside and play loudly and wildly until they are both out of breath. If Tora isn’t around, Loki can still find things to do with herself – she draws until her crayons become little stubs, or turns the living room into the biggest pillow fort it can hold, or rides her bike up and down the street until she can’t feel her legs. But in school, it’s different.

When they happen in class, it’s impossible to concentrate. She finds that other kids, and even the adults, can’t keep up with her, that her thoughts come too fast – soon, she becomes intimately familiar to the many variations of the phrase “slow down!” She can’t stay put. She can’t pay attention. The energy begins to burn at her, instead of inside her, and soon becomes uncomfortable, all bottled up and pressuring.

It’s not normal.

She’s never thought much of the moments when the energy goes away and she’s left drained, sleepy and tearful. Everyone has bad days, right? It’s natural that sometimes, she doesn’t want to get up, to do anything, to feel anything – just _being_ is hard enough already. Right?

Apparently, not. Apparently, you should have a reason to be sad. That should go without saying, but it’s not the way it works for her. The bad moments just _happen_. Loki slowly realizes she doesn’t _have_ any reasons to be sad, or to be tired, or to feel demotivated. Sometimes, the urge to crying just takes over her, and she can’t explain it. Nor can she explain why it goes away eventually. It just happens, like ocean tides, and she has learned to accept them as part of life. But, apparently…

It’s not normal.

And why is she so short of patience? This isn’t her. She isn’t impatient. She isn’t aggressive. She hates fighting. She hates being mad, and especially when other people are mad at her. But the first incident at school isn’t the last time she hurts people by losing her temper – not by far. Her mother, father, teachers, all give her tips on controlling her anger. They talk to her about the reasons why she’s angry. They try teaching her how to cope.

But there’s nothing she can do about it. It’s as if her skin in badly sunburnt, the gentlest touch firing the pain receptors like a slap; she’s afraid of it. Afraid of being so mad. Afraid of hurting the people she loves because she can’t control it, even as she keeps doing it without meaning to.

 _I try. I’m trying really hard. I am._ she thinks, desperate, through yet another talk to mom about how to deal with these feelings.  _I just can’t help it._

It’s not normal.

So, by default, Loki finally concludes, somewhere along the way… _she_ isn’t normal.

 _What if mom and dad find out?_

The first time she lies, it’s a little thing, almost unimportant. She is playing a board game with her family, and suddenly all she wants is to go to sleep. One of her bad moods is creeping on her – she feels tired, cranky, and yearning for her bed. When her dad asks her if everything is okay, she hesitates for a panic-filled moment, not wanting to admit what’s really going on. Nothing has happened to make her feel tired out of nowhere. She can’t explain it. 

They’ll ask questions and she won’t have answers to them, and they’ll think she’s hiding something. They’ll find out there’s something wrong with her. What will daddy think? What will mommy think? What if she is letting them down? What if they are hurt or sad or angry at her? 

What… what if they think she’s a freak?

“I’m okay,”  she finally says, forcing a smile on her face and lightness in her tone,  “I’m just a bit hungry.” 

Lying, it seems, gets progressively easier with practice. 

Ignoring the guilt does not.

.  
.  
.

There’s something about the snow that always fascinated Loki.

It’s not only the snow, actually, although that _is_ what she loves the most. It’s the cold in general. It’s sort of alluring. Maybe it’s because the cold is better for the dark, and for quiet, and for listening. It matches her personality better. Cold makes people want to stay at home. It makes them wear more clothing. It’s almost secretive.

And _snow…_ snow is just impossibly beautiful. Lethal, bothersome, invasive, soaking everything through… and yet mesmerizing. She never gets tired of it, of looking at it, feeling it, running in her backyard buried knee-length in it. Loki smiles absently, sticking out her tongue to catch a snowflake. 

It’s snowing now, softly, almost lazily. The ground is already covered from previous snowfalls, so Loki’s track shows clearly – one foot after another from the kitchen door to the stone bench in the backyard. She’s feeling chilly, but it isn’t a bad thing exactly, and not uncomfortable enough to get back inside. She’d rather stay here admiring the snow and thinking.

She’s having one of those bad days today.

Her humor isn’t very reliable right now. When she gets like this, it’s more likely she’ll lash out at someone, or that her parents will realize something’s not right. Lately, she’s taken to wandering into the garden when these days happen. She’d rather no one noticed. She’d rather just get lost in her own thoughts and wait for it to go away.

Before her cousin Inga goes home, she thinks, distractedly, Loki has to ask her to take her to the rink tomorrow – Inga is the most likely to say yes, because she lives nearby and can take her laptop along. There are few things Loki likes so much as ice skating. She’s never intended to pursue it professionally – she knows how much effort and money go into it, and she can’t trust herself with such a rigid training program. God knows her head is too out of control for that. But it doesn’t mean she likes it any less. 

She goes through some moves in her head, putting together a routine just for the kicks.

A loud laugh coming from her house startles her out of her thoughts. She recognizes it easily – it is Tora’s. There is hardly a sound Tora makes that Loki won’t recognize, but her laugh is the easiest of all. It always fills the room, like a golden bell ringing, and if they are outside, it is like the air around them has begun tingling. It is usually the loudest, the first to burst and the last to die. 

The girl pulls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, breathing out puffs of white mist. She wishes with maddening intensity she was more like Tora – funnier, happier, louder, more _normal_. More alike their family. As if she actually belongs there, instead of awkwardly being allowed to stay around while her sister can make everyone in the room pay attention to her as easily as she can crack jokes and make friends.

The rest of her family is visible through the warm windows, talking loudly, exchanging stories and laughing a lot. On snowy days, most everyone always decides to show up for a visit. As more people arrive, more food begins showing up out of thin air, and now it seems unlikely they’ll leave anytime soon. All of that had been well up until not so long ago, when they finished dinner and begun talking about Hunting.

Loki hates it so badly.

She thinks hunting is despicable. She hates every mention of it. She hates when they talk about guns, and about traps, and gets honestly sick to her stomach when they start talking about blood and skin and meat. But – and this is the real problem – her entire family, and especially her dad, are crazy about it. They are always talking about it. 

They love it. She hates it.

And Loki can’t reconcile those two images of her father – her dad and the hunter. Her dad is the man who held her in his lap for eight hours straight every single day for a week, just so she could sleep peacefully. She’d fallen off the “big girl” trampoline she shouldn’t even be using anyway, and gotten hurt. The only comfortable position in which she could sleep was when her dad held her. As soon as he relaxed his posture, the pain flared up again. But he’d held her, and she’d slept as well as always.

That’s her dad. The one she loves and looks up to and wants to spend time with.

But then there’s the hunter – there’s the man who teaches Tora and her about hunting, who takes them on camping trips just to get them used to the wilderness, who shoots animals for no other reason other than because _he can_. And she hates that man.

But he’s her _father_ – he comes when she has a nightmare, he always plays with her, he praises her drawings and loves her. She _can’t_ hate him. Only horrible people would hate their own fathers. What would he think if he knew she was thinking this? Her dad would be horribly hurt, and that possibility terrifies her.

But dad also kills innocent animals, puts blades through their bodies, lets them bleed without a care in the world…

Loki sighs. Just goes to show she doesn’t fit very well in her loud, boisterous family. When they go on camping trips, she never accompanies father and Tora on their outdoor excursions. She waves at them from the door next to her mom, and feels terribly left out at the same time relief floods her in big waves. It’s all very confusing.

And it’s just one more thing she keeps lying about.

“Loki?” 

She raises her head, startled. Tora has managed to sneak up on her while she’s been lost in thought. Her sister approaches with a big, golden smile plastered on her face and a plate piled up with dessert enough to last three Lokis. 

Without asking for permission, the girl hops on the bench next to her and shoves the plate in her direction, producing a spoon out of nowhere.  “I brought you dessert,”  she informs, like an eager, self-satisfied puppy.  “I think you didn’t hear mother saying it was serving. You like that one, right?” 

She doesn’t, actually, not particularly. She isn’t even hungry. She wants to be alone. She wants Tora to trip over a rock and hit her head for being so perfect and so happy and so similar to her dad.

Her sister smiles at her as if she’s her favorite person in the whole world.  “Yes, I do. Thank you, Tora.”  replies Loki, smiling back and picking up the spoon.

“You should come inside,”  says the girl, a blink away from pouting.  “I miss you when you are not around.”

“I’m watching the snow,”  replies Loki, neutrally, avoiding her sister’s eyes.

“You can watch the snow from the windows. It’s _cold_ out here. And you are all alone.”  Tora leans forward, actually pouts and looks at her pleadingly.  “Pleeeeeeeease?” 

The girl can already feel her resolve slipping through her fingers like water. It’s no use, really. She can never say no to Tora.

Tora knows no better than the rest of their family. She doesn’t understand what goes on in Loki’s mind either, or realize how much she lies, every day, just to pretend to be normal. Tora is no different.

Except she is. 

She is everything.

“All right,”  replies the girl, smiling amicably, feeling lighter despite herself. Being around her sister has this effect on her – even when Tora isn’t doing anything, even if she’s just there, Loki finds that being with her makes the earth feel a bit steadier beneath her feet.

It helps that every time she smiles at her, Tora makes no attempt to hide exactly how much she is crazy about Loki. When she’s terrified of her parents finding out, of letting slip her head is somehow not working the way it should, Tora’s smile gives her a little hope it wouldn’t matter. That it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

It’s a short-lived hope, but hope nonetheless. 

.  
.  
.

A year later, Loki finds Bibi in the streets.

She’s coming back from school with Tora and Inga. It’s raining a cold, thin rain that’s chilling their very bones, so they are hurrying to get home, galoshes splashing on their way. Finally, the trio has to stop at a red light, breathing hard, huddled under their umbrellas.

And that’s when Loki hears the fuss – a loud sequence of angry “meows”, right next to her. Startled, she turns, looking for the source of the sound. Stepping a bit to the side, she spots it. It’s a little grey cat, fallen on its back on the street, furiously clawing at the rain that’s falling, as if it can somehow defeat it.

Loki’s heart melts. _Poor kitten_ , she thinks, stepping away from Inga and crouching down next to it until her umbrella covers both of them. The kitten stops struggling immediately. It hisses, sounding very smug, almost victorious.

The girl falls in love almost immediately.  “That’s not the most efficient way of keeping dry,”  she tells the cat, affectionately, smiling.  “You are really brave, aren’t you? A really brave little missus.”  she whispers, secretively, reaching out to touch her.

“Loki!”  calls Inga, sternly, holding her elbow and pulling her back.  “Step away from that cat, it’s infested!”

“But _Inga!”_ protests the girl, pulling back and freeing her arm.  “She’s just a poor kitty! Look at her, all alone and scared.”

“I don’t think that is a kitty.”  Interjects Tora, peeking from behind their cousin and wrinkling her nose.  “It smells sour.” 

Loki glares at her sister as nastily as she can.  “What would _you_ smell like if you were covered in mud and fur on a rainy day, Tora?”  she challenges, aggressively, shuffling to protect the kitten from the girls.  “She smells no worse than your gym socks.” 

Her sister reddens at the insult, mumbling nonsense to herself, embarrassed. Inga is the one who’s still fretting.  “Loki, honey, you really shouldn’t touch that cat…” she warns, worriedly, trying to gently tug her away.

“Nonsense!”  huffs Loki, rolling her eyes. People do seem to have an unexplainable prejudice against cats.  “She will not give me diseases if I hold her for five minutes.” 

Gently, as gently as she could, the girl reaches out to the little cat, holding her umbrella with the crook of her elbow. She avoids the spots that seemed to be hurt, cradling her like a new born. Startled, it hisses and turnes around in a flash, sinking her small teeth on Loki’s thumb.

“LOKI!”  shrieks her cousin, as if about to pass out.

“Calm down, Inga, she’s just scared. She didn’t hurt me.”  chastises the girl. It had barely hurt. She waits until the cat lets go of her, then brings it closer, opening her coat with the other hand.  “You are such a brave warrior.”  she coos at it, trying to calm it down as she brings her next to her chest and pulls the coat around her small body.  “Yes, you are. Brave and fierce.” 

It’s such a small, helpless kitten. It’s very dirty and hurt, and probably starved. Yet, it has put up such a fight, even against the rain itself. And now, it seems to be letting go, finally, cuddling against Loki’s warmth and meowing lowly. 

“Do not worry,”  she whispers, a secret promise, bringing her face close to it.  “I will take care of you.”

“Loki, that cat has _diseases…”_ insists Inga from behind her, restless.  “And you’re muddying your clothes.”

“I think she has an ear infection.”  replies the girl, pointedly ignoring her cousin in favor of better examining the cat. It seems it’s a girl, although she can’t be sure, and out of all her problems, that ear looks, by far, the worst of it.  “Oh, you poor baby. It’s all red and icky. I bet it hurt a lot, didn’t it? There, there.”

“Sister, I believe you are either blind – or crazy.”  calls out Tora, seeming to salvage her broken pride. She’s staring suspiciously at the kitten, her noise still wrinkled, with obvious distaste.  “That thing is heinous! “

“Don’t talk of Bitteline like that!”  snaps Loki, protectively, bringing the cat closer to her chest.

“You already _named_ it?!”  groans Inga, looking as if she’s about to just throw her hands up and let it all be damned.  “Oh, Loki…”

In the next weeks, Loki waits patiently. She tends to Bitteline’s injuries, feeds her, baths her, warms her carefully, and waits for her cat to finally begin trusting her. It takes more patience then she ever thought she had, but various bites and scratches latter, Bibi is crazy in love with Loki, and will let no one but her touch her.

The girl almost wants to cry.

If she saved Bibi and took care of Bibi and if Bibi loves her so much… surely she can’t be that bad, right?

.  
.  
.

In retrospect, it was moving to the USA that finally made her snap.

Loki didn’t want to. She hates every single minute of it, and desperately yearns for her home, her family, her friends, the little stability that she’s managed to build for herself in Norway.

Loki hates the USA from the first day she sets foot in the country. She is scared of it. 

The first few months aren’t so terrible, however – if she is once again completely friendless, the same could be said for Tora. Her sister hangs around Loki all the time then, spending more time with her than she’s had in years, and Loki’s heart is filled to bursting with glee. She has her sister to herself, again. No one to compete with her. No family to make her feel unwanted.

Just her and Tora.

“Lokiiiiii,”  whines the older girl, hugging her and leaning all her weight on top of her.  “Play with meeeee; I’m _bored!”_

“Stop _squishing_ me!”  she protests, flailing and considering hitting her with her book.  _“Tora!_ You are _heavy!”_

“But I’m soooo bored.” sighs her sister, dramatically, leaning her cheek against the back of Loki’s head.  “I want to play! Please, sister? Is that book so much more interesting than I am?”  she pokes it over her shoulder.

“Stop it.”  admonishes the girl, pulling it away from her, holding back laughter.  “Aren’t you too old to want to play with your little sister?”

“What?”  Tora’s voice is completely puzzled, as if Loki is presenting her with the notion of a flamethrower-and-teletubbies-crossbreed. She gets back on her feet again, sustaining her weight and leans over Loki’s shoulder to look her in the face.  “I’ll never be too told to want to play with you, Loki.”  she explains, frowning, as if saying that much should be obvious.  “And I’m only twelve. I want to _plaaay.”_

“Now you are only twelve.”  points out the girl, amused.  “Today at lunch you were ‘almost thirteen!’” 

Tora begins pouting – oh, what a low blow.  “Don’t _you_ want to play with me?”  she asks, heartbroken.

“Why should I?”  teases Loki, coking her head to the side.  “You don’t even like me anymore.”

 _“Preposterous!”_ the girl sucks in a dramatic breath, as if her honor is being questioned.  “How could you ever think so?!”  she throws herself next to her sister on the stone stairs.  “I like you best of _everyone_ , sister.” 

Loki smiles, closing her book and softly setting it aside.  “You have to – you are my sister.”  she replies, nonchalantly. Tora frowns, thinking hard.

“Perhaps,”  concedes the girl, grudgingly.  “But if we were to have never met before, or if we had been born in different countries, in different continents – were we to ever met, I’d love you from the first day, sister. _That_ is a promise.” 

Loki’s heart swells, equal parts love and pain. Of course Tora would love her. Of course Tora would never guess that that wouldn’t be enough. She smiles.

“Well, _maybe…”_ she says, resting her hand against one palm, dragging the syllables.  “I _think_ I _could_ play with you.” 

Tora perks up like a light bulb being turned on, sitting up.  _“Really?”_

“Humm… on second thought, I’m _reading…”_ she makes as to pick up her book, purposefully slowly.  “Maybe I should finish that first.”

“LOOOOKI,”  cries her sister, holding her again.  “No fair!”  and just before Loki can let out the laughter she’s been holding, Tora begins tickling her. 

“Hey, wha--- NOOO!”  the girl starts laughing, squirming, trying to get away from her.  “DIRTY MOVE!”  she says, out of breath, giggling very hard.  “Stop tickling me!”

“Then play with me, sister!”  replies Tora, playfully, half-hugging, half tackling her.

“Never!”  defies Loki, still laughing until her belly hurts. They roll on the garden, fighting playfully and getting grass and earth all over their clothes, all the while laughing and half-heartedly arguing like a bad old western movie.

Finally, they roll next to where one of their water pistols lies forgotten on the ground, and Loki grabs it smartly, firing a big splash of water in Tora’s face. Her sister throws herself back, spluttering, while the brunette sits, trying to regain her breath.

“Oh, so it has come to this.”  says Tora, teasingly, reaching behind her. It takes Loki too long to realize she is reaching for the hose.

_“Tora…”_ warns the girl, trying to sound stern.  “If you turn that thing on… HEY!” 

“SURRENDER!”  yells her sister, turning the water on her.

“I WILL NEVER!”  replies Loki, ducking and running. They begin laughing all over again, splashing water on until each other until they are both soaking wet. Tora has the better munitions, but Loki is cleverer – by the time they finally tire themselves out, they are both equally drenched.

“We’re disgusting.”  laughs the younger girl, blinking to get the water out of her eyes.  “Mother will be cross.”

“Mother is not home,”  replies her sister, pink-faced.  “And father is up in his office. If we sneak past him and clean up, we won’t get into trouble.”

“I’m hungry, too,”  informs Loki, too lazy to get up.

“I’ll make us something.” replies Tora, firming one knee in the ground.  “C’mom, I’ll give you a ride.”

“You are just showing off,”  accuses the girl, fondly, climbing piggy-back and wrapping her arms around her sister’s neck.

“You are easy to carry.”  she disagrees, smiling.  “I’m your big sister. What am I here for?”

“Watch out for the carpets,”  warns the smaller girl, resting her cheek against Tora’s on their way in.

The following week, some girls invite Tora to a birthday party, and everything goes back to the way it was before.

The third time her sister apologizes, saying she is sorry, but she has a compromise, and that she’ll help Loki with her puzzle later, the girl realizes two things – first, that Tora is still spending a lot of time with her, but, somehow, it doesn’t make her feel any less lonely. Second, that she’s been feeling this way for some time now, and it is beginning to get worse in a terribly familiar way.

It is going to pass. It always does. It is going to go away, and she’ll feel better, then. Soon. Soon, it will all go away. 

Except it doesn’t. It gets even worse – and worse still. And it doesn’t end. 

She is having her first void.

.  
.  
.

The most frightening thing about having a void, Loki soon discovers, is that she never knows when or _if_ it is going to end. Whenever it happens, it lasts forever. 

The second most frightening thing is how _exhausted_ they make her feel – not only _during_ them, which is a new level altogether, but _after_ they end, too. The fear of having a void never really goes away. It just grows bigger and bigger until it finally proofs itself valid and another wave of madness hits her. And once they end, there’s so much _to do_ – so many things she did or didn’t do while being unable to think that she has to take care of while she still has the time. 

It’s draining. 

Loki has her first void at the end of October, 2008. She is ten years old. She has her final one in mid-April, 2010, at twelve years old. During that period, she can count the times in which she _didn’t_ felt exhausted using only the fingers in her hand. 

But lying does get easier with practice. The fear of your parents finding out? Does not.

A small part of her still thinks someday they’ll stop for good. A human being simply can’t live like this forever. One day, they will have to get better. She won’t think about the alternative. She refuses to think about the alternative. 

In the meantime, she takes up running. If she could, she’d do it every night: it’s better than staying up in her bed, not sleeping, but pretending so hard she’s afraid to turn on the lights. She can’t, however, if she’s going to keep up her façade. So she joins the track team instead, and tries to burn the energy during the day in hopes she’ll sleep at night.

Running helps. Not much, and not nearly _enough_ – but it helps. And in nights when the lack of sleep is beginning to drive her over the edge, she hauls Tora away from bed at four, five in the morning and asks the girl to go running with her. More than once she breaks into sobs somewhere along the way and has to stop just to avoid running into a light post.

Tora doesn’t ask. Tora _never_ asks, just holds her until the worst of it ends. Loki knows if her sister _does_ ask, she’ll break and tell her everything, and she’s terrified of it. Maybe her sister sees it – maybe that’s _why_ she never asks.

Either way, she helps. More than running, and not nearly _enough_ – but she helps. In times like this, Tora is the only thing that keeps her from losing it. Tora is the reason her heart is still, more or less, in one piece. And then…

.  
.  
.

July, 24º, 2009, fifteen past three in the afternoon. Her sister breaks her heart.

.  
.  
.

“Tora!”  calls out Loki, strapping her kneepads while she enters the living room.  _“Tora!_ I’m going to ask dad to take me roller skating! Do you want to…”

She finishes strapping them on and straightens up, looking around, for her sister. Her voice dies in her throat and her body freezes in place. Tora is sitting in the couch, watching a movie… and James is sitting next to her. They are close. Very close. _Too_ close.

She stares in stunned silence, her knuckles going white from gripping the helmet too tightly. As she watches, he shyly, hesitantly, almost as if asking permission, throws an arm around her sister’s shoulder.

Loki, wildly, believes for a fraction of a second she’ll shrug it off. Instead, she raises her head and smiles at him, and she’s never looked this beautiful before.

The pain is so crushing, for a moment Loki is certain she’ll die of it.

She wishes she could say it came out as a surprise. It didn’t. She’s always known it, hasn’t she? That she was a freak? That there was something wrong with her? Isn’t this just the final proof to leave no space for doubt?

She’s always been in love with Tora. She knows that. She knows it’s a hopeless, stupid, probably sick notion and that nothing will ever come out of it. But why does it still feel as if she’s losing her?

She can’t really loose something she never had.

Or maybe she just lost her a long time ago.

 

.  
.  
.

It does seem that for every time Tora keeps her from giving up, she also hurts her in a way no one else manages.

It’s Saturday, and James isn’t over for a change, which would be better news if Darcy hadn’t decided to show up, instead. Loki doesn’t hate Darcy the way she hates James. She’s jealous of him, and keeps her distance, yes, but not nearly as much as she does his friend. That does not mean, however, she _likes_ him. She does wish he’d fuck off.

While the two of them are downstairs, being their usual idiotic selves, her mother is braiding her hair in her room. Elin’s been doing that for as long as Loki has been at school, and she’ll keep doing that for as long as her daughter lets her get away with it. Loki will _always_ let her get away with it. 

“You hair just gets prettier every day,”  says her mother, fondly, running her fingers through it.  “It’s such luck you have this beautiful color.” 

Loki smiles at her through the mirror, relaxing a millimeter as the woman runs the brush through her locks, minding her scalp. Today is not of one her best days, but she’ll wrestle a thousand demons before letting them ruin her moment with her mother. Elin’s fingers braid her hair swiftly, tucking the lost strands in, humming softly.  “Which one?”  she asks, indicating the hair ties.

Loki bites her lip, her hand hovering above them. Finally, she picks a purple one and hands it over – her mother snaps it around the end of the braid, letting it fall over the girl’s shoulder.  “There you go. Beautiful.”  she hugs her, kissing her loudly on the cheek. The girl smiles.

“Mom, where’s Bibi?”  she asks, noticing her cat isn’t in her usual spot by her window. 

“Bite?”  asks the woman, distractedly, and Loki tries very hard not to frown at that stupid nickname.  “I think I saw her downstairs, honey.”

 _Weird_ , thinks the girl, exiting the bedroom still barefooted. Bibi is very strict when it comes to her routine. She doesn’t usually deviate from it. Has she found something more interesting today?  “Bitteline!”  she calls out, going down the stairs.  “Nusket? Where are you? Bibi, mommy is looking for you!” 

She’s considering looking behind the couch, even though that’s unlikely, when she hears muffled laughter. She knows that laughter – instincts tickling, she follows it towards the kitchen, keeping her steps silent.

Tora is crouching behind the kitchen table. Loki’s patience goes out of the window – well, great. Her overgrown child of a sister is up to something again. If Tora’s practical jokes were at least a little _interesting_ , Loki might have some time for them, but they are always painfully _boring_. She’s about to turn and leave, not caring if Darcy falls for it or not, when she sees he’s actually crouching down _next_ to her.

She pauses. If Tora is not playing a prank on Darcy, then who…?

What’s Bibi doing on top of the kitchen counter?

Loki scans the room wildly, looking for any possible treats, and soon realizes _what_ the cat is doing: she’s heading towards a stuffed toy, a simple catnip-filled mouse that Loki can’t remember ever buying. Bitteline has a _thing_ for catnip. She’s probably performing some kind of great mouse hunt inside her head. 

But wait a second, why’s that toy sitting on top of – is that Tora’s raicoat? What’s it doing on top of the kitchen counter? Actually – what’s it doing on top of the _sink?_

As if hit by lightning, the girl suddenly understands what’s going on: Bibi is about to jump into the sink.

Her heart goes out of her throat with panic.  _“BITTELINE!”_ she calls, urgently, throwing herself forward as her cat pounces. She hits the plastic covering and shrieks loudly, shrilly, when it crumples under her weight. The girl arrives just in time to snatch her up, pulling her away from the water-filled sink. The raincoat comes with Bibi, stuck to her claws, splashing water all over them.

Her cat panics, accidently clawing Loki’s arm as the girl struggles to get it off. She holds Bitteline against her with one arm, tossing the cape on the floor with the other and backing away several steps.  “Oh my God,”  she mutters, shakily, tightly wrapping both arms around Bibi.

Tora and Darcy get up from behind the table hurriedly. “Sister?” calls the girl, worriedly, probably noticing Bitteline clawed her. “Sister, did she hurt you? Are you hurt?”

Her skin is cold and her heart is hammering in her ears and even though the crisis is over, she’s still thoroughly frightened. She doesn’t have the will, or the energy to face Tora – instead she holds her cat tighter against her chest and runs upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her. 

Once it’s safely locked up and her back is firmly resting against it, Loki can finally let her muscles unclench. Her legs go to jelly under her, and she falls on the floor hard.

“Thank God you are okay,” she breaths, on the verge of tears, kissing Bibi’s ears repeatedly. The cat’s pupils are completely dilated, and she’s breathing hard, fidgety, panicky. Her claws are digging in Loki’s clothing and skin, but she can’t bring herself to pry them off.

And to be honest, she can’t say she’s that much better.

The girl brings her knees closer to her chest, curling into a ball, holding Bitteline as gently as she can against her neck. She rubs her head to calm her down, murmuring reassurances and waiting for her own heart to stop beating so loudly in her head.

_How could Tora do that?_

Half of her is pretty sure her sister had no idea what she was doing. She never pays attention to Bibi. Loki is the one who takes care of her – everything, from changing her litter box, to feeding her, to bathing her. She won’t let anyone else do it. So how would Tora know?

Tora wasn’t there when the vet said her pet’s injuries didn’t look accidental, but man-made. Tora didn’t see Bibi going absolutely mental with terror every time Loki put her _close_ to water. Maybe Tora didn’t even know how often people try to drown little kittens. 

But _why_ did she think Bibi was so scared of people? Wasn’t it _obvious_ she acts so hostile because she’s scared? Loki had had to move earth and skies to make the cat trust her when she first adopted her, and now Tora wanted to go and _almost drown her?_

She kisses the top of Bitteline’s head again, shielding her with her body, not knowing to feel relieved Tora isn’t doing it on purpose or bitter she didn’t realize something so obvious.

She can only be grateful she was there in time to save Bibi.

_How could Tora do that?_

.  
.  
.

The day of their camping trip, Loki would be in a foul mood even if she wasn’t going through a void. If she has to listen to her father and Tora discussing her Hunting trip one more time, she’s going to pierce her own eardrums – and leaving Bibi behind always makes her feel anxious. 

Not to mention _James_. Ugh. Dammed James Foster. God, she hates that guy.

Now, considering her head has turned into an out-of-control mixing bowl of hell, she really should have known this wasn’t going to end on a good note. She keeps herself busy doing the heavy work of setting up camp and gathering firewood and getting water – anything, really, _anything_ to not stay still in one place.

Soon, too soon, there’s no work to be done anymore, and her family – and _James_ – begin settling down, lazy, joking and talking to one another. Her head is going to explode. Gotta get out. Gotta do something. Have to do something.

“Mom, I’m going out for a walk,”  she says, hurriedly, getting ready to disappear before they notice how fidgety she’s getting.

“Wait up, honey!” calls Elin, catching up to her before she can disappear behind the line of trees. “Why don’t you take James with you?”

Loki stares at the boy, sitting next to Tora, helping her good-heartedly, smiling all the time and teasing her. They are practically emitting an aura of rainbows, hearts and sugar. She wants to throw up just looking at him.  “He’s with Tora.”  she tells her mother, stubbornly, trying to form coherent sentences: it’s hard. She tries to keep them short and simple, else her words begin tumbling out of her mouth frantically. 

“Show him around”, she replies, gently, but firmly. “Go on a walk while your sister and I finish up here. He’s never been to this area. It couldn’t do any harm, could it?”

A hundred different thoughts cross her mind all at once. But she isn’t in any state to put up a decent argument against her mother – that’s a daring task even in her best days – so she just nods and waits for him to get up.

He kisses Tora on the way out.  _Hate him, hatehim, hatehimhatehim,_ she thinks, heart bleeding with fury.  _I_ wanted to do that-I _can’t_ want to do that-Tora would never-I wish she’d kiss _me-Hate her, hate her, hate her-_ Leave my sister _alone._

“Let’s go?” he asks, smiling friendly, tying his hoodie around his waist.

She waits for them to be reasonably out of sight from the camp before running ahead. She doesn’t plan it, her anger just gets the best out of her. She hates Tora, hates her with every fiber of her being for not understanding, for never asking, for not seeing, for not loving her. She hates the boy just as much, refuses to listen as he calls out for her to wait up.

_He will survive being lost for five minutes_ , she argues, cruelly, staying just out of sight, but within earshot. 

“Loki, are you there?” he calls out, nervously. “ _Loki?_ Loki, wait up! Aren’t we out of the trail? Lo…”

His voice dies abruptly. Just as the girl is beginning to wonder, she hears him screaming.

Loki freezes, soul leaving her body as the scream fills his ear. James screams for long seconds, a terrified sound followed by the sound of branches cracking and leaves rustling violently. There’s a loud _thump_ and suddenly there’s silence.

Loki turns around and runs blindly back to where she’d left him. There is a badly damaged bush just to her right, and she runs towards it, stopping short as the terrain suddenly plummets down right after it. James is lying at the bottom of the slop, and there’s… oh, God, no… there’s _blood._

 _“DAD!”_ yells the girl, at the top of her lungs, turning back again.  _“MOM! DAD! TORA! OVER HERE! DAD! PLEASE, OVER HERE!”_

There’s yelling, there’s running, there’s frantic calls and orders called out dryly, and there’s Tora, crying, crying more than Loki has ever saw her crying and James… James might be… she might have…

_She might have killed him._

.  
.  
.

It’s later – how much later? – and Loki can’t sleep. She hasn’t slept in – how long? She can’t sleep. She wants to sleep. She can’t sleep. She hurt Tora. She killed James. No, she didn’t – he isn’t dead. She hurt him. She hurt Tora. She wants to sleep. She can’t sleep. She hasn’t slept in – how long? She’s a monster. She hurt him. She hurt him. She hurt her.

“I want to sleep.” 

She’s a monster. There’s something wrong with her. She’s a monster. What will mommy think? What will daddy think? What will Tora think? She hurt him. She’s a monster.

Is he okay? Is he dead? He isn’t dead. Is he? Is he hurt? There was blood. Is he dead? Is he dead? Is Tora okay? There _was so much blood._

She wants to sleep. She can’t sleep. 

“…make a contract with me…”

She blinks. What? Oh, that’s right. There’s him. Is it a he? It’s talking to her. What does it want? Did she let it in? It’s talking to her. Is James dead?

“…fight Witches…”

Witches? Is she a Witch? She’s a monster. There’s something wrong with her. Is it there to kill her? It should. Someone should. She wouldn’t mind. It would be nice – like sleeping. She wants to sleep. She can’t sleep. 

“…can grant you any wish at all.”

“Any wish?” 

Are the words hers? Is she talking? A wish?

“I can give you anything you want the most in the world.” 

Anything she wants? _What_ does she want? She wants to sleep. No, she doesn’t want to sleep. She wants Tora. She wants Tora to love her. Tora doesn’t love her. Why? She wants Tora to love her again. She’s scared. What if she doesn’t love her anymore?

“Why doesn’t Tora love me?”  she asks out loud, not noticing it.

The thing – a cat? – tilts its head.  “Well, objectively speaking…” Is it a cat? It sort of looks like a cat, and then again it sort of doesn’t. Do cats talk?  “…human emotions, but as far as I understand it…” She’s pretty sure cats don’t talk. Did she let it in? Is the window open? Ah, it’s open. Her curtains are billowing softly.  “…romantic love…” She should get new curtains. She should _make_ new curtains.  “…a taboo against incest.” 

“What?”  Her head snaps back. Incest? What’s it talking about? Has it been here for a long time? What’s it… ah. Tora. Tora doesn’t love her. Does Tora know how Loki feels about her? Is that why she won’t love her anymore? 

“If you wished for it, I could make it so that you were never sisters,”  says the cat.

And then Tora would love her?

All she has to do is wish for it?

“I…” she’s afraid of saying the words out loud.  “I wish…” she licks her lips, which are suddenly very dry.  “I wish Tora and I weren’t sisters anymore.” 

Her chest flares up with a very physical pain and she yelps, holding it, falling on her bed in a mess of limbs. There’s a bright green light and Loki grabs at it meekly, trying to make it go away. She feels something cold under her palm and wishes so badly she could just _go to sleep…_

In almost no time, she’s completely passed out.

She wakes up when the sun is beginning to rise, even though she’d fallen asleep near lunch time. Bitteline is licking her face, pawing her nose almost playfully. Loki blinks her eyes open, squeezing them against the light and scratches Bibi’s head.  “What the…” she yawns, sitting up.

All at once, several things rush to her head, and the final of them is, ironically, the one that makes her freak out the most: she can _think._

Her head is clear. Mercifully clear, clean as water, clean as it has ever been. She can _think_. All of her thoughts are in order, coherent, obedient, maybe slower than she’s used to – it’s infuriating, and then it’s not, because that urge to get going that has plagued her for over a year now is gone. It’s all _gone._

_How?_

“Ah, I see you’ve woken up,”  interjects a voice, making her nearly jump out of her skin. She grabs Bibi from the bed and backs away wildly, looking for the source of it.

The cat. _That_ cat. Her heart drops in free fall, so hard it probably doesn’t stop at the floor.  “You.”  she says, dread crawling up her body.  “You are that… that cat thing. You were _talking_ to me… you… I… my wish.”  Her eyes widen.  “My wish. You didn’t… you _couldn’t_ have…”

She finally looks around her.

Her bedroom is gone. Her things are gone. Her curtains and bedclothes, her drawer, her clothes, her books, the shoes she’d left by the bed – it’s _all gone_. She’s standing in a bland, simple guest’s bedroom, the sheets messy where she’d been sleeping, but otherwise completely untouched. As if she’d never existed. 

She runs. Calls out for her father – daddy is not here, how could he leave without her? Throws open cabinets, turns the house upside down, opens door after door and there’s nothing. The pictures are gone. The books are gone. Her old toys are gone. There’s nothing left of her, not a trace, not a paper with her name written on it.

Just her and the clothes on her back.

She’s alone in the house, locked inside, so she goes out through the bedroom window, grabbing one of Tora’s shoes on the way. She has no money, nothing at all, and she doesn’t dare call the hospital, so she runs all the way, her heart beating hard on her ears.

When she finally arrives, she’s drenched in sweat, and now that her mind is working properly she’s horrified by what she’s just done. Nothing is right, nothing makes sense, but _Tora_. Tora would remember her. The only reason she made this stupid wish was because she was afraid her sister would hate her. Tora _had_ to remember her. She couldn’t just stop existing like that.

She halts in the waiting room, leaning on her knees and trying to catch her breath. Running was easier when she was frantic. Her forehead is dropping with sweat, but she still raises her eyes, searching desperately.

“Tora!”  she calls out, brokenly, finally spotting her sister. The girl stops and turns around. She looks horrible. Probably hasn’t been sleeping much, either.

Loki has never been so relieved in her entire life. She smiles, straightening up and running to her, about to throw her arms around her neck, when she catches sight of Tora’s expression.

There’s _nothing._

She stops as if someone has pulled on her strings.

“Yes?” asks Tora, kindly, polite, but completely detached. “You called me?”

Loki _stares_ at her. “Tora,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s _me. Loki._ You _know_ that, right?”

The girl blinks, looking impossibly exhausted and frayed and out of her mind. She begins shaking her head slowly, obvious sorry to have to say this, but… “I cannot say I recall you.”

“You don’t…” she keeps staring, as hard as she can, _willing_ Tora to understand it. “You don’t _remember_ me?”

Her sister opens her mouth, uncomfortable, and shakes her head again. “I am sorry, I… are you a friend of James?” she asks, gently, as she’d finally caught on. “Have we met?”

Loki opens her mouth, but before she can answer, a doctor comes calling for Tora, and her sister apologizes off-handedly, turning around to accompany him. She walks away in unsteady feet, disappearing behind a corridor curve.

And never looks back.

And just like this, quiet like a pin falling to the floor, Loki’s life crumbles and burns around her.

.  
.  
.

She arrives home kicking her shoes off and stands in the living room in her socks, looking down without seeing. She can’t feel her fingertips. 

Raising her arm, Loki turns it, palm spread towards the ceiling, and examines the pale green-blue veins that run through her pulse. She presses her thumb against them, feeling the steady pressure of blood flow. Do it vertically, she heard once, and not horizontally, so they can’t patch it up. So they can’t fix it. But does it even matter? No one can fix her anymore.

_“Meow.”_

Loki jumps so brusquely she almost gets whiplash. Bitteline is staring up at her with that old unimpressed face of hers, as if asking:  you’ve been home for fifteen seconds and you _still haven’t petted me!_ Do you think that’s acceptable? 

A faint dot of light goes on in Loki’s mind.  “Bibi?”  she calls, unsure. Her cat meows again, rubbing herself against her legs impatiently. Loki knows that body language: that’s her saying  hey! Pick me up already! 

She hesitates again.  “Nusket? _You_ remember me?” 

Bitteline looks up at her with a sour expression.  What’s wrong with you? Are you not going to pet me? 

Five hours later, after eating everything she could in the house and packing what she couldn’t, pilling up cat food and stealing Tora’s things because hers are gone, Loki goes out of the window again, tossing her stuff outside and then climbing down holding Bibi with one arm.

It’s not until after the sun has set and she’s finally found a tree out of the way to sleep against that she allows herself to break and cry.

.  
.  
.

IC arrives on her second night, when Loki is still trying to figure out what the hell she’s supposed to do now. It isn’t until it enters her line of sight that she really dares believe she wasn’t dreaming when she’d met it.

“Hello again, Loki,”  it greets, pleasantly enough, walking towards her. Bitteline hisses, tensing as if about to pounce, but the girl holds her back.

“So,” she says, dryly, petting Bibi to calm her down. “I didn’t hallucinate you.”

“Were you under that impression?” it asks, cynical, sitting like a proper cat. Although, now that Loki is seeing it through steady eyes, she realizes it looks more like a panther than a domestic cat. “Of course I’m not a hallucination. I thought it would be obvious considering all the proofs you have.”

Loki brings out her Soul Gem. She isn’t sure what it is, or how can she control it, but it already feels like a second nature. And the girl isn’t dumb – it _has_ to be important. “You mean this?” she turns it around in the faint light, examining it. “Or the fact you just ruined my life and erased it from the face of the Earth?”

“Hm?” it tilts his head, sounding genuinely puzzled. “But I didn’t do anything. I merely fulfilled your own…”

“Shut up.” she hisses, enveloping the Gem with one hand. “Just… _shut up_. I don’t want to hear it.” she takes a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. “Let’s start at the beginning. Who the hell _are_ you?”

.  
.  
.

She’s dead. She’s _dead_. Barely twelve years old, and she’s already _dead._

So why the hell would Loki even care?

.  
.  
.

Her first Witch is terrifying, and nearly kills Loki. She falls on her butt when the Labyrinth fades, sobbing and hiccupping at the same time, her arms trembling so hard they can barely keep her sitting.

It’s a testimony to how much her cat loves her that she doesn’t even flinch when Loki cries all over her.

The second Witch isn’t easier, nor is the third. The fourth is. In the sixth, she meets another Magical Girl for the first time, and she lets Loki go with _only_ minor injuries.

“Are they _all_ like this?” she asks IC, minding her magic levels as she tends to her injuries. Turns out, yes. They are _all_ like this.

They are all very, very stupid.

It doesn’t take long for Loki to figure out that _none_ of them ever asked Fury the important questions: what are Witches? What happens if my Soul Gem gets too dark? How does a Soul Gem even work? She’s honestly dumbstruck. Asking for explanations had been _the first thing_ she’d done once she had her head straight. What’s _wrong_ with these people?

God, they deserve what they got if they’re _that_ idiotic. But then, with IC’s ulterior motives, she supposes it _wouldn’t_ have picked the brightest cookies in the jar. Fucking damn alien cat and its fake ignorance of legal consent of minors.

She researched that just to make a point.

By her tenth Witch, Loki begins to get better than most everyone else in Washington. She trains harder, asks more questions, and develops better strategies. She’s _good_ at it, both by hard work and by sheer talent. Better than them. The best.

She’ll never have to live through another void in her life.

Turns out she was right. They _didn’t_ last forever.

“Why am I more powerful than them, IC?” she asks one night, petting Bibi absently. She broke into a hotel room that night – easy to do with magic – and climbed on bed between the sheets, cocooning herself with Bitteline. She’s still getting used to stealing food. She can’t get anything that requires preparation, which means a lot of cans and shitty food. 

It doesn’t make much of a difference, considering her body isn’t really hers anymore. Mostly, she worries more about Bibi, who’s lost a lot of weight ever since they left home.

“You mean in terms of magic?” asks the panther, curled on the floor far away from Loki. It knows better than to trust her. “Well, the amount of magic you girls can use is directly related to the strength of your Soul Gems, as I’m sure you have noticed.”

“And the strength of their Soul Gems is related to…?” presses Loki, unimpressed. Does it still think it can get away with these kind of half-assed answers?

“The strength of a Magical Girl’s Soul Gem is dependent on the amount of grief they’re bound to carry.” explained the Incubator, licking a paw indifferently. 

The girl raised her eyebrows, stopping with the spoon half-way to her mouth. “Wait, so you mean the worse our life is after contracting, the more powerful we are?”

“I suppose that this statement isn’t incorrect,” agreed IC, with its usual blandness. 

_Grand,_ thinks Loki, swallowing her beans and wrapping the sheets tighter around herself.  _Absolutely grand. What was I expecting, anyway?_

 _It’s not like I’m exactly_ happy, _is it?_

.  
.  
.

Even though she has no idea why she’s doing so, Loki still moves to NY after Tora. Maybe there are a hundred reasons behind her decision, or maybe even now, after her sister completely forgot who she is, and Bibi is the only creature in the world who cares if she dies, she’s still hoping Tora will look at her.

It’s pathetic, but why should she care? It’s not like there’s anyone left to judge her.

New York isn’t so bad, decides Loki, as she is heading back “home” with a pile of cat food for Bibi. No one pays attention to her, no one even cares if she walks around in ice skating boots and a shiny shirt at midnight with a skinny cat trailing after her heels. Leaving Bibi behind on her Hunts soon proved to be impossible: her amazing, stubborn, fierce cat refused to be away from her for any amount of time. She turned out to be a vicious familiar killer. Loki’s always known she was brave.

The Magical Girls are, mostly, no different from the ones she’d known at Washington – unwillingly to talk and completely oblivious to IC’s true intentions. Charlie Xavier is an exception. After their second encounter, Loki is pretty sure she hates her guts, but can’t help the begrudging respect that blooms somewhere.

Of course, Charlie is a cheater – because she is a mind reader, she experiences the grief of other Magical Girls, making her Soul Gem the most powerful in the city without suffering through it herself. She has a past no one knows about exactly, because those who know are wise enough to keep their mouths shut. Loki picks up enough to know there was someone named Raven, and someone named Erika, both of whom were Magical Girls and are long since dead. That’s as much as she wants to know.

She wonders, however, how much Charlie has picked up about _her_ – she keeps dropping these hints she knows all about Loki’s “condition” and her sad, tragic tale, but nothing too knowledgeable to be conclusive. Then Loki remembers she doesn’t care either way and simply rolls her eyes at the girl.

The second exception is Peggy Carter. Loki finds it honestly baffling someone could be this clueless and naïve about being a Magical Girl. It’s painfully obvious she has no idea what her Soul Gem is, or what IC wants, or what they are doing when they fight Witches. A small part of her pities Carter. Another small part envies her. The rest of her feels utter and acute contempt.

Tora is living in a student’s republic. She’s walking around with this blond-haired kid-faced girl as if they are joined by the hip. Loki is somewhat suspicious of her – Tora has spent her entire life _surrounded_ by friends, and suddenly she and this Stephanie person are living in their own little bubble. Why?

It takes Loki a long time until she finally realizes that having your boyfriend nearly die on you is bound to change a person.

She keeps tabs on James, out of some sick masochist streak or something. He’s not dying, and he’s not in a wheelchair, and he’s not in a coma. He is only amnesiac and incapable of forming new memories.

He has no idea who Tora is.

The parallel is obvious, impossible to miss. On the day she finds out, Loki nearly loses her head to a Witch – that is a daily occurrence. The fact that she’s disappointed she’s won it’s not.

.  
.  
.

The day Loki finds Fenrir, it’s cold, and she’s on her way back to her tree wearing a freshly stolen sweater. She’s long ago told IC to please get a life and stop following her around, but the stupid alien cat has the bad habit of sneaking up on her at the most random moments to collect used Grief Seeds. Ever since learning of his Hive Mind set-up, if Loki’s to be honest with herself, she has been mildly freaked out by bees – the whole concept simply began to seem much more creepy to her. That is why she’s listening so attentively as she walks, and that’s how she hears Fenrir whining.

She stops dead in her tracks, looking around. She can hear, faintly, barks and yelps, the sound of a dog fight somewhere nearby. Having nothing better to do right now, she changes her route and follows the noise. She turns a corner and spots the source of the ruckus.

A big caramel-gray dog and a small, deep-black puppy are tussling next to a big trash can, apparently competing for leftovers. The bigger one has the obvious advantage: the puppy is just trying to get out of it alive, whimpering and yelping and being generally beaten.

Loki’s gotten hold of her scepter before her brain even catches up with her: she aims and fires at the bigger dog, sending him yelping away from the puppy, out of fright more than out of hurt.  “Cowardly dog.”  she mutters to herself, lowering her scepter.  “Attacking a little puppy for one meek meat ball. Just shameful.” 

The smaller dog – with thick black fur and big paws he’ll probably grow into – is still on the ground, ears flat against his skull, licking his injuries.  “Hey…” she calls, putting her weapon away and crouching down next to him.  “Hello there.” 

The puppy jumps high enough to go over Loki’s head – he backs against the trash can, growling, looking scared out of his mind. He reminds her of Bibi for a moment, if the way her heart is melting is any indication.  “I won’t hurt you,”  she promises, as softly as she can manage, leaving one hand outstretched, but unmoving.  “I swear I won’t hurt you.” 

She waits a long time, but the puppy slowly eases up, allowing her to pet him, mindful of his injuries. He’s trembling.  “You must be so cold,” she murmurs, carefully picking him up. He goes without protesting, not even barking as she covers him with her sweater, nesting him against her chest. The puppy buries his cold nose on her neck and whines happily, as if there’s nothing better on the world that being on her lap.

She giggles – it tickled.  “You almost remind me of someone,”  she tells him, sadly, waiting for him to relax. Once he’s happily accommodated, Loki rests her hand against the back of his neck and heals his injuries with magic. 

The puppy reacts as if Loki is the savior of human kind, licking her ear, her face, waving his tail madly. She begins giggling, losing her balance. He can’t find footing, so he keeps tumbling and hitting her shoulder with his jaw, but that doesn’t stop him from getting up again.  “Hey, stop it! I get it!”  she interjects, trying to hold him.  “I just healed you, you don’t need to look so happy!” 

But there’s no arguing with him – he’s too happy and won’t listen to a word she’s saying. Ah, that’s it. She’s done for. 

“Hey! Ey, ey, ey, you crazy dog! Get off from her!” calls a man’s voice suddenly. The puppy freezes for a moment, nearly strangling himself with the urge to get out of her sweater. Loki finally manages to grab him and put him down. 

There’s a man approaching them. Probably lives on the street, looks older than he actually is, and his health doesn’t seem to be at its peak. The puppy is barking loudly and running around his feet, impossibly excited. “Oy, you, stop this!” says the man, sternly, shooing him away and approaching her. “‘m sorry, girl, he’s a big doofus. He hurt you?” 

Loki lets him help her to her feet – he looks completely harmless, and even if he wasn’t, the first person who tries to grab her will be going to the hospital with a necropsied hand. “No, I’m all right.” she replies, blandly, fixing her clothes. 

They talk for a while, while the puppy shamelessly barks between them demanding attention. The man is in terrible shape, and he seems to know he won’t survive another NY winter – it seems giving her his dog is the closest thing he’ll have to a will. And so Loki picks him up and walks back holding him in her arms, whispering his new name to him so he’ll get used to it. 

(She looks for the man later, always looks for him in the crowd every minute she’s out in the streets, but never sees him again.)

The first time she catches Bibi sleeping on top of Fenrir, the two of them acting like an old married couple, all snuggles and false aggravation, Loki’s sure she must have done something right in life. One way or another. Maybe.

.  
.  
. 

And then, November 21º, 2010, Loki meets Piper.

She’s still training Fenrir to help Bibi fight familiars, and trying to see if he can smell Grief Seeds from far away, when she comes across a Witch’s Labyrinth completely by accident. She’s already in full costume, prepping her pets up for the fight, when she realizes someone is already inside – but whoever it is, seems to be losing fantastically.

“Amateurs,”  she tells Bibi and Fenrir, rolling her eyes, before stepping inside.

Piper is in there, swinging around like an acrobat on a serious caffeine high. Her blue-and-red costume is fitting like a leotard, covering her entire body, with some gaps that show skin, both for looks and – yes, to make her movement easier. There are black lines covering the outfit, like a spider’s webbing, which fits the puffs of tulle that decorate it. Her hazel hair is chopped short, with longer braids on the front, as if she’d one it herself with a kitchen knife. There’s a spider-like hair accessory holding it back, matching the spider embroidery on her chest, where her Soul Gem glows.

She’s badly beat up. And she’s still jumping around the Labyrinth like this is the Cirque du Soleil. She has a defiant expression and a smart glean in her eyes and is quipping witty remark after witty remark _at an irrational manifestation of negative human emotions._

_She’s going to die_ , concludes Loki, dryly.

“Getting a little sleepy, are we?” teases the stranger, shooting something white and icky out of what looks like some device on her wrist. Is that _spider web?_ “Aw, don’t worry, pal. Not everyone can be as amazing as me. We can _totally_ fix you up.” The Witch is throwing giant needles at her by the bucket, but the girl barely seems fazed. “An exercise program, a little diet… a serious plastic surgery to do something about that ugly face of yours.”

_Dead. Gone. Turning into Witch's food any second now._ thinks Loki, staying behind where the Witch can’t spot her.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” muses the girl, landing on the balls of her feet. “That isn’t as good as… _FUCK!”_

A needle almost impales her in the chest, and she loses her footing, plummeting into the endless pit that is a Witch’s Labyrinth whose gravity hasn’t been turned off. Loki tenses, considering, getting ready to catch her, when she suddenly changes trajectory. 

The Witch’s body is abruptly surrounded by lines of white webbing. Loki freezes, her mouth hanging open as she realizes _this is what the girl’s been doing all along_. The stranger laughs, holding on to a thick cable of webbing that’s made of all the smaller lines. “Bye, bye, Ugly,” she says, sweetly, before pulling on it hard.

The Witch gets chopped into a million pieces.

Loki barely has the time to close her mouth before Fenrir darts away, barking and waving his tail, to make friends with the new girl.  _“Fenrir!_ What… the hell are you doing? Fenrir! _Get back here!_ ” she hisses, chasing after him, trying to grab his collar. He is much too fast for her, and before she can stop him, he’s bumped against the girl’s legs, demanding attention.

“WHOA!” exclaims the stranger, jumping with the scare. _“What the…_ hey, you.” she stops mid-sentence, spotting Fenrir and opening a smile. “What are you doin’ here, little fellow? Did you get lost in the Labyrinth?” she drops to her knees, petting Fenrir’s neck. “You have an owner?”

“He’s mine,” interrupts Loki, stepping in her line of vision, ready to freeze her bones if she tries to attack. The girl falters, taking in her outfit, but doesn’t make any aggressive moves.

“You’re a Magical Girl, right?” she asks, getting up carefully. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I already used the Grief Seed. I got nothing.”

“I don’t steal Grief Seeds.” replies the girl, pulling Fenrir away firmly, holding him next to her. “My dog is just overly enthusiastic. We’re leaving.”

The girl blinks, frowning slightly. She’s probably Loki’s age, maybe younger, with brown eyes and big ears. “Hey, no need to be like that,” she says, friendly, stepping ahead and offering a hand. “Your dog is pretty nice. I’m Piper, Piper Parker. What’s your name?”

She eyes her outstretched hand suspiciously and doesn’t take it. “Loki.” she answers, dryly, not offering her last name. Piper shrugs and lets her hand fall.

“Isn’t that, like, that dude from Norse mythology who gave birth to a horse?”

Loki stares at her in silent shock. “Yes,” she replies, slowly. Then: “What kind of question is that?”

Piper shrugs again. “Heh, sorry. I kinda to that, you know? Talk too much. Like, a lot. What about them?”

The girl looks down at her pets. Fenrir is acting as if this person is his new best friend – traitor – but Bibi is crouching between her feet, looking very displeased. “Bitteline and Fenrir,” she answers, even though she doesn’t know why she’s still indulging the crazy girl.

“Hey there, guys,” greets Piper, reaching over and petting Fenrir again. He waves his tail happily.

_“Really,_ Fenrir?”  demands Loki, glaring at him. Her ungrateful dog ignores it in favor of licking Piper’s fingers.

“Say what,” calls the girl, scratching behind his ears. “I’m going to go grab a hot dog. It’s late, and I probably have to head home, soon.” she smiles at Loki, relaxed and honest and carefree. “But do you want to come with me?”

She’s so baffled she can’t even come up with a proper answer. “Why the hell?” she asks, instead, raising one eyebrow.

“Dude, it’s _hot dog.”_ replies Piper, leaning forward and lowering her voice, as if it’s a secret. “You know anything else that says _New York_ more than a good dog with mustard, maybe a little chilli? You can’t say no to that. It’s _sacrilegious_ , or somethin’.” 

Half an hour later, they are sitting at the top of a building with their feet dangling over the edge, the wind billowing around, and Piper back in her street clothes without a care in the world. Loki has no idea how she got here. Fenrir loved the dogs. Bibi refuses to eat it.

“What are the green bits?” asks the girl, suspiciously eyeing the food. 

“No one knows.” answers Piper, mysteriously, chewing earnestly. Loki stares at her.

“How can you eat things when you don’t even know what they are?” she inquires, slightly disgusted, and completely unbelieving. The girl raises an eyebrow at her, unimpressed.

“Hey, it’s the American way, pal.” she argues, her mouth half-full. “You don’t like it, go back to Philly where you came from.”

“I’m from _Norway.”_ protests the girl, feeling mildly offended. “You could be poisoning my dog with this stuff!”

“He’s _fine,”_ laughs the other Magical Girl, patting Fenrir. “C’mom, Loki. Eat the hot dog. Eaaaat it. You know you want to.”

“Oh my God, _shut up.”_ snaps Loki, understanding her less and less the more they talk. “I’m eating it, already!”

The hot dog really _was_ delicious.

.  
.  
. 

Eventually, somewhere after the fifth not-so-coincidental encounter, Loki begins suspecting Piper is trying to _make friends_. She really can’t imagine why she would want to do that. But there’s something that keeps Loki from telling her to fuck off – every time they meet she seems to end up going along with Piper, even if the girl makes so little sense to her.

It’s just, that… it’s hard to avoid Piper when Fenrir is so obviously in love with her. She’s doing it for her dog. Really. It’s only because of Fenrir.

Bibi is giving her _the_ most unconvinced look.  “I am not fooling anyone, am I?”  she asks her cat, who just yawns in return.  “Great.” 

The next time they meet, they go Hunting together and kill a Witch in record time, not even breaking a sweat. “Hey, say what,” calls Piper, picking the Grief Seed up from the floor and walking up to her. “Do you want to come over tonight?”

“Come over?” repeats Loki, sure she’s heard wrong, eyeing her suspiciously. “You mean… to your house?”

“Yeah,” agrees the girl, smiling and opening her palm with the Grief Seed in it. “’Cause, you know. It’s _snowing._ It’s gotta be better than sleeping outside, right?”

“How do you know I sleep outside?” demands Loki, staring at the Seed in confusion.

“Dude,” Piper rolls her eyes, amused. “every time I see you, you are wearing the _same outfit._ I can put two and two together.” she looks at her expectantly, still holding the Grief Seed. “Well? Are we cleaning our Soul Gems, or not?”

Blinking in surprise, Loki changes out of her Magical Girl outfit, holding her Gem next to the Seed. Piper brings her own Gem out, too, and they share the Grief Seed in silence. “So?” she smiles at Loki, pocketing the Seed to give it to IC later. “You coming? I can make a mean hot chocolate. I’m just sayin’. I wouldn’t say no to hot chocolate.” she smiles when Fenrir begins jumping around her, wanting attention. “And you can bring Bibi and Fenrir, too.”

It’s cold as fuck, and Bibi _hates_ the cold, and there’s a real risk they might die of hypothermia sleeping outside. That’s not the real reason she accepts it at all.

Eventually, they develop a routine.

Piper still goes to school, mainly because she still has a family and a façade to maintain, so Loki kills time during the morning, “buys” her groceries, minds her pets. Sometimes she goes Hunting – the amount of magic she uses is not easy to maintain – or spends time at the library.

Then she goes to pick Piper up at the school, trying to look unsuspicious and harmless to her classmates. When her friend finally comes out, they change into their Magical Girl outfits and go Hunting, the four of them, sometimes accompanied by Sammy.

( _“Sammy?”_ deadpans Loki, staring at the girl ironically.

“Dude, he sounds like Samuel L. Jackson. Seriously, they sound _exactly_ the same.”

“Why am I friends with you again?”

“Oh, shut it, I always knew you only wanted me for my body.”)

Loki’s just starting to notice Piper is always alone when she leaves the school, when someday she comes accompanied by someone else. He’s blonde, tall and lean, and if Loki has to guess, probably has straight A’s and flawless skin. She recognizes him instantly; simply going by Piper’s mumbled, occasional remarks and the expression in her face.

Oh, this is going to be _fun_. “Hi, Pipes!” she greets, cheerfully, making her friend jump and blush violently.

“Loki!” she squeaks, fidgeting nervously. “Hi! You already here? Ahm… so, we gotta get going, right? Right. Ahm, I gotta get going.” she adds to the boy, nodding emphatically. 

“No need to be so hasty,” interrupts Loki, stepping around her friend and smiling at him. “Hello, my name is Loki. You’re Gene, right? Piper has you in her computer.”

The boy smiles, accepting her hand and shaking it good-heartedly. “I’m Gene, yeah.” he agreed, pushing his fringe back. “You’re Piper’s friend?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m her charge, actually,” replies the girl, beaming at Piper. “The estate has her private teaching me as part of her community services. For her probation. You know?”

“Funny! Very funny, Loki, hilarious, really. Don’t listen to her.” interrupts Piper, flustered, trying to get her out of there. “She’s a pathological liar and she mistook you for someone else.”

“Oh, man. You _don’t_ have me on your computer?” asks Gene, smiling at her friend, who seems about to pass out from embarrassment.

“Yeah. Well, I mean like, I had a...” she fidgets with her hands, looking desperately for the word. “I took a photo of the debate team and you're in the debate team, so.”

“Ah, that was the _debate team?”_ interjects Loki, smiling broadly. “I couldn’t see anyone else, you know, because your face was zoomed in.” she tells Gene, making a serious face and nodding. Piper stomps on her feet.

“So, anyway, we gotta get going.” she says, yanking Loki’s arm again.

“Sure.” agrees Gene, putting his hands on his pockets. “So… I’m gonna see you?”

“What?” Piper nearly trips over her own feet. “I mean, yeah. Sure, like… yeah. Some other time? Like, we could…” she gulps. “Or we could do something else. Or we could, if you don't like... we could...”

“Yeah, either one.” agrees the boy easily, probably taking mercy on her. “Just, you know. Some other…”

“Time? Yeah.” Piper smiles, dragging Loki away on unsure feet. “Okay. All right.”

“Bye,” adds Gene, waving at them as they left.

“It was nice to meet you!” calls Loki over her shoulder as her friend nearly dislocates it out of its sock.

“I. Am going. To _kill you.”_ hisses Piper, as soon as they are out of ear shot, and she begins laughing.

 _“Suave,_ Pipes. No, seriously.” she hiccups, leaning against the wall. “That was… that was _priceless.”_ she laughs again, tears filling her eyes as her belly begins hurting. “You’re a lost cause.”

“You’re a dead woman.” mumbles her friend, walking with her face so red it is shining.

“Who would save you from Witches if I was dead?” replies Loki, bumping her with her shoulder. Fenrir and Bibi catch up with them, falling into pace next to their legs. Piper rolls her eyes at her.

 _“Please._ Witches _tremble_ at my presence. I’m a _legend_ among them, all right?” she shakes her wrist, where her web shooters are concealed. “They go home to hide under their beds at the sight of my Science.”

 _“I_ helped you make these!” protests Loki, incapable of hiding her smile.

“You helped me _perfect_ them. So not the same thing.” 

“You were wearing your Soul Gem _in your chest_ before you met me!” points out the girl, crossing her arms. “You were completely hopeless.”

“You had never eaten a hotdog before you met me! You were hopeless.” disagrees Piper, petting Fenrir when he presses against her knees. “Hey, are you still coming over today? Aunt May is beginning to think your parents don’t feed you, so she’s cooking, like, enough to feed your entire country.”

“Sure.” confirms Loki, easily, trying her best not to think too hard about it. “If your aunt isn’t fed up with three of us, yet.”

“You know, I think she kinda _likes_ your psycho cat.” whispered Piper, eyeing Bitteline carefully. “I _swear!_ I think Bibi even lets her _get close_. Is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Loki chuckled at it, bending down to pick up her cat. Truth be told, she had the slight suspicion _Bibi_ might like aunt May. Really, though. Who wouldn’t?

.  
.  
. 

Piper finally tells her about her wish during a sleepover, after aunt May has already gone to sleep and they are in her living room, watching _Lord of the Rings_. Piper has to be the geekest person Loki’s ever met, not to mention one of the brightest – it’s the first time she’s met someone who can actually _keep up with her_. Although, admittedly, her brain works considerably slower now that her voids are gone.

Loki can’t remember how the subject came up – it’s pretty late already, because marathoning LotR isn’t something you do lightly, and she’d _told_ Piper so. She’s thinking she’s probably going to fall asleep any time now, Bibi already deep under in her stomach, when somehow her friend begins telling her about the day she contracted. Piper is sprawled on the carpet, Fenrir cuddling against her hip with his head in her stomach, and she tells the whole tale without looking up from the TV.

Loki has already guessed what her wish had been – Piper has enhanced strength and speed _plus_ an exceptional healing factor and an outstanding sixth sense they jokingly call “Spidey Sense”. It’s too many quirks for them to be side-effects of a wish. And, as she’d thought, the healing factor is the Magical Girl ability that came with the wish. The enhanced strength, speed and the sixth sense were her _actual_ wish: to be able to get back at her bullies.

That much Loki knew. But then Piper keeps going. She tells her friend about getting into trouble for breaking the basketball hoop and humiliating a former bully. About overlooking her duties as a Magical Girl and forgetting to pick up her aunt. About acting like a self-satisfying jerk. About ignoring familiars because they were none of her business.

Loki remains quiet, staring at the back of the couch and feeling guiltier and guiltier by the second. What will she think if she knows _Loki_ lets familiars get away whenever Piper isn’t looking? What will she do if she finds out Witches are but fallen Magical Girls and that “Sammy” lies to them on a daily basis? 

“One day,” continues Piper, so low the TV almost drowns her voice. “I got into a Labyrinth thinking it was a Witch’s, you know? But turns out it was only a familiar, so I figured ‘why bother?’ and let it go.” Loki says nothing. “Then, when my uncle Ben was coming to pick me up at the library, a burglar shot him – the guy had no criminal record, not even a speeding ticket before that day. When he was running away, I saw…” her friend gulps, her voice becoming watery. “I saw a Witch kiss in his neck. It was the same mark from the familiar I let get away.”

There’s a long pause.

“Uncle Ben died before he even got to the hospital.” she concludes, bitterly.

Loki rolls over on the couch, looking at Piper over the edge – the girl looks back at her, lips set in a thin line as she keeps from crying. Reaching over, Loki holds her hand, interlocking her fingers, and squeezes

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Pipes.” she says, softly, and her friend lets out a shaky breath that could’ve been a sob.

“How would you know?” she asks, dismissively.

Loki drops her eyes, and feels Bibi pressed against her back, Fenrir’s soft gaze locked on her, and Piper’s fingers holding her hand tightly.

“I have to tell you something, too.” she answers, looking back up, her heart thundering in her throat. 

.  
.  
. 

“You know what I was thinking?” asks Piper, suddenly stopping loading ketchup onto her shish kebab.

“That this much ketchup is going to kill you?” replies Loki, deadpan, pulling the meat apart with her fingers to feed Bibi and Fenrir.

“The _ketchup_ is going to kill me?” her friend stares pointedly at her as she feeds small bites to her cat. “I thought you weren’t supposed to give human food to animals.”

“She eats _pigeons.”_ remarks the girl, fondly, scratching her chin. “In New York City. I’m not denying her any food.”

“And you were worried I was _poisoning_ Fenrir with the hotdog.” she looks at the dog, shaking her head. “Can you believe it, mate? Don’t you think your mom is completely neurotic?”

Fenrir answers by putting his front paws on her hip and stealing her food. “HEY!”

Loki laughs, licking her fingers and gesturing for another one. “So, what were you thinking?” she asks, opening her soda.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Piper clears her throat, cleaning her hands in the napkin. Loki raises an eyebrow at her. “You remember how you told me that…” she clears her throat again. “That just because your family doesn’t _remember_ all that happened, it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen?”

The girl stares at her friend, cautious. “Why?” she murmurs, almost scared.

"Well,” Piper bites her lips, scratching Fenrir’s neck. “So even if they don’t _remember_ that, you _are_ still their daughter, right? So you must still have the same DNA. And a DNA test is sort of a big proof, isn’t it?” she takes a deep breath, embarrassed. “You could get you and your sister tested. I mean, I don’t know if that’s what you _want,”_ she adds, hastily, all too aware of Loki’s true feelings for Tora, “but there’s that.”

Loki stands there with her mouth slightly open, taking in the words – she has been so convinced of IC’s throughout removal of any proof she has ever even _known_ Tora, she hasn’t thought about the most obvious. It can’t have altered their DNA. If she can get this proof, if she can show it to her parents and make them listen for enough time…

“Do you think they would believe me?” she whispers, looking at Piper. Her friend shrugs.

“I don’t know. Do you?” she answers, shortly, as if it’s actually _that simple_. 

A faint glimmer of hope blooms in her chest, not unlike the one she felt when she realized Bibi still remembered who she was. It’s tiny, won’t really change anything, and the bigger part of it must be wishful thinking. Still, it’s hope. And is the first time she’s ever felt any.

“Yes,” Loki finally answers, unable to hide her smile. “I think they will.”

.  
.  
. 

But, as usual, everything falls apart just as it’s beginning to come together.

Seven months after she meets Piper, they take on a Witch that’s too powerful for them. Loki’s magic is drained from fighting off a particularly bad void that had been coming, and Piper’s exhausted from fighting with familiars just the night before. They try to run once they realize their mistake, but it’s no good. They’re trapped, and loosing, and their Soul Gems are rapidly dying out.

Loki dislocates her shoulder, cracks her ribs and nearly burns her Soul Gem to the core to get them out, but the Witch drops no Grief Seed. Piper falls down the second the Labyrinth fades away, moaning in agony as her Gem darkens and begins to crack.

“Loki,” she whimpers, laying on her lap, holding her hand so tightly it hurts, her eyes wide and frightened and tearful. “What’s _happening?”_

“Nothing,” lies the girl, holding her hand back and discreetly pulling it away from her line of sight. “Nothing is wrong at all, Pipes.” she looks her in the eyes and touches her scepter to her friend’s Gem, smiling reassuringly. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

She breaks Piper’s Soul Gem before it can turn into a Grief Seed.

.  
.  
. 

A week later, just after Piper’s funeral, the DNA test results arrive. She isn’t related to Tora. Not by mother, nor by father.

And between the two of them, she knows who her parents’ real daughter is.

.  
.  
. 

Loki’s been at Scandinavia tracking her biological parents for nearly four months when Stark’s message arrives through Charlie’s telepathy. It’s New York – and Tora is still there – so she comes back.

“What makes you think I will be willing to help you?” she asks Stark, wondering if this has been a waste of her time.

But she had been talking to Stephanie when Loki arrived – Stephanie Rogers, Tora’s best friend. This can’t be a coincidence, can it?

Keeping her Poker Face on, Stark puts her can down on the table, reaching out to her cellphone and tapping a few buttons swiftly. “Because I can offer _you_ something in exchange.”

Loki does her best to appear thoroughly unconvinced. “Yes? And what would _that_ be?”

The girl turns the phone around and pushes it towards her calmly. “Information.” she replies, tapping the screen. “And protection.”

In the screen, there’s a picture of Tora and Stephanie – and Carter? And…

IC.

_IC is trying to form a contract with her sister._

___._  
.  
. 

Her deal with Stark is simple – she helps her defeat Walpurgis Night, which is in their best interests. In exchange, Stark offers her a roof, a credit card, and help in keeping Tora away from IC.

Loki is terrified of talking to Tora again. 

She leaves Bibi at home for fear Tora’ll recognize her, and takes Fenrir along, walking the familiar path to James’ hospital. She nearly misses her sister sitting in the secluded garden, out of the way, even taller than she remembers her.

Once she realizes what Tora is _trying to do_ , Loki goes completely ballistic. The Incubator can’t have her sister. IC can ruin her life, take away everything she has away from her, pry the last of her life from her dead fingers if it will – but he can’t have Tora.

Tora, that she still loves more than her own life. Tora, who still can’t remember her. Who is unhappy. Who she wants to contract just so she’ll need Loki, just so she and James can never be together, but who she won’t let contract out of the little humanity she has left in her.

Tora, who ignores her warnings and contracts anyway. Whose Soul Gem is too small, too little suffering powering it, which can only mean Tora’ll be dead before she can really grieve – because Loki knows best than to think a Magical Girl could actually be happy for long.

Tora still doesn’t remember her. Tora has contracted. Loki will never, ever again see the parents that were never really hers to begin with. 

She’s finally managed to track down her biological father, a big CEO in Denmark called Bjorn Laufeyson, but he didn’t even care enough to keep her in the first place. She couldn’t find her biological mother. 

And Pipes, the only friend she’s ever had, is dead.

What’s she even living for, really?

The moment when her Soul Gem finally breaks, she’s almost relieved. Mostly, though, she’s just tired.

And she wants to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick, special thanks to tumblr user Piper Parker -- I Am Spider Girl, who gave me the idea for Peter's genderbent name.


	10. "We're not Disposable!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: character death

It was cold. _Freezing_ , like the worst of a blizzard in the middle of an open field. The walls were growing around her like a lighthouse or a medieval tower, window bursting to life as the ice broke apart violently. There were spider-shaped familiars crawling up the walls, razor-blades for feet, with green multi-faceted eyes. The sky, unreachable and tiny at the far end of the tower, was blood-red, like molten lava.

And at the center of the Labyrinth, surrounded by snow, frost and rose bushes with their petals pulled off, stood a giant ice-viper, wearing a royal crown and a frayed red cape. Lines of red cut through its body, and Tora gagged in disgust as she realized what they actually were: hot blood dripping between the crevices of the ice, forming thin rivers that rose steam as the snow evaporated. 

Tora stood on the ground, breathing hard, her senses castigated by the sudden apparition of the Labyrinth. She forced her eyes to adjust, and her head to _think_ – what had _happened?_

 _Loki_. Where was Loki?

She looked around frantically, trying to spot the tiny girl in the midst of the chaos, and finally caught sight of her: she was laying against a huge chunk of floating ice, her head falling back over the edge, her limbs loose and her eyes closed. Tora’s heart stopped beating in her chest.

 _“LOKI!”_ she called, changing into Magical Girl costume and dashing towards her. She jumped from piece of ice to piece of ice, landing hard on her knee and nearly losing her balance as she collected the girl’s body. Loki’s head fell against her shoulder, her dark hair covering her face, with pale eyelids and white lips. “Loki,” whispered the girl, propping her up and cradling her face. “Loki, wake up! _Loki!”_ she shook the smaller girl, but she didn’t offer any resistance, soft and unmoving, not even a breath making her chest rise. _“LOKI!”_

The Witch hissed, a loud, shrill sound that made Tora’s eardrums shake. She recoiled instinctively, holding Loki closer to her body, keeping her hammer in hand. “What did you do to her?!” she yelled at the creature, feeling Loki’s cold cheek against her neck.

The Witched hissed again, and a shower of bloodied ice shards fell upon Tora. She cursed and threw herself backwards, trying to avoid them with little success. Just as she thought the next projectile would get her, something rocketed past her ear and hit the nearest shard, blowing it to bits.

“Step back.”

Tora landed on the floor again, wavering under the weight of the smaller girl – it was next to nothing, and yet… ahead, a smoke bomb blew up right in the Witch’s nose, making it hiss even louder. She was getting ready to stand up and run when Antonia suddenly appeared in front of her, as she’d just teletransported here.

“Hold on.” said the girl, outstretching a hand towards her.

“How did you…” began Tora, holding Loki closer protectively.

“Doesn’t matter!” snapped Antonia, forcefully. “Hold on _now!”_

Cursing internally, the girl leaned forward and held her hand. A strange feeling went over her muscles, like entering a hot bath still covered in cold sweat, and the next breath she took felt completely different. The ice shards froze where they were, the Witch stopped moving, even the sounds died out, leaving behind an eerie, deafening silence. “What the…” she muttered, just before Antonia yanked on her arm, getting her on her feet.

“Don’t let go, or time will stop for you, too.” warned the girl, running away from the Witch.

“What the hell is happening here?” demanded Tora, transferring Loki to one arm so she could run. “Where did that Witch come from? What happened to Loki?!”

“That Witch _is_ Loki.” answered Antonia, snappish, without looking back. “And you are carrying a dead weight. Drop that thing, is slowing us down.”

“I’m _not_ leaving her behind!” growled the girl, holding on tighter to the brunette’s waist. The older girl panted impatiently.

 _“Fine._ Then pick up your pace before both of us get killed.” she ordered, speeding up. The door to the Labyrinth finally appeared ahead, shaped like a snake biting its own tail, and they run through it, resurfacing at the empty street.

Tora fell on her knees, still holding on to Loki. The girl was even colder now, her eyelids purple, completely unmoving. Now that she could see her in regular light, Tora finally noticed Loki’s right hand: it was crushed, purple and red, as if a car had run over it. Tora’s stomach hurled. She hadn’t seen it when they were talking earlier. How could Loki have let it get like this? 

_“Tora!”_ cried out Stephanie, dropping to her knees next to her. “You scared the shit out of me! What happened?! You and Loki suddenly… you just disappeared… and then…” her voice trailed off into an horrified silence, and then she gasped, jerking away and covering her mouth with her hand. “Is that… is she…?” Steph looked up at Antonia when her friend didn’t answer. “Toni, is she…?”

“She’s dead.” agreed the girl, dryly, changing out of her Magical Girl outfit. “Her Soul Gem got too impure: it burst and turned into a Grief Seed.” she glanced at Loki briefly. “She got turned into a Witch.”

Steph choked painfully, her body sagging as she looked at Tora, looking for confirmation, but the girl couldn’t look back. She gripped Loki tighter, burying her face in her hair. The image of the Witch was burned in her eyelids. That wasn’t Loki. Wasn’t _her_ Loki, anyway. The Loki _she_ knew…

But Tora _didn’t_ know Loki at all.

Then why did this _hurt so much?_

She didn’t even realize she was crying until the sobs were too strong to breathe through. Stephanie laid a hand on her back, talking lowly to her, but stopping was hard. Loki _couldn’t_ be dead, simply _couldn’t_. And not in this way, not turning into a gigantic snake made of ice when she was at her lowest point. 

_She couldn’t lose her._

“Tora,” insisted Steph, in a tiny voice, “Tora, I’m sorry, but we need to get out of here. We might attract attention. We have to go.”

“I cannot leave her here.” replied the girl, trying to swallow the knot in her throat. Stephanie’s blue eyes were dark with pain and sadness, but somehow remained soft.

“We won’t leave her.” she replied, gently, trying to get her on her feet. “But we have to get going.”

“Give her to me,” interrupted Antonia, coolly, outstretching her arms. Tora backed away, protective.

“Why?” she demanded, aggressively.

“So I can bury her.” explained the girl, dryly. “Or do you have any idea what to do with a corpse?”

She backed away another step. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” cursed Antonia, angrily. “She’s _dead_ , Odinson. You are holding on to a corpse, and in a few hours, it’ll be stiff as stone. _Give it to me.”_

 _“Toni._ ” warned Stephanie, stepping between the two of them and putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Loki’s _just_ died. Pretend you are a human being for a moment and show some compassion, okay?”

“What _is_ your brilliant plain, Steph?” snapped back the brunette, challenging. “You can’t exactly bring her into your house, can you?” 

“No.” agreed her friend, shortly. Somehow, Tora felt too tired to join in on the argument. Loki seemed even tinnier when she wasn’t moving, vulnerable, and colder. She unclipped her cape, wrapping it around the smaller girl, and used her Soul Gem’s magic to keep her warm. “Which is why we are going to _your_ house.”

Tora raised her head at that – Antonia’s expression was very sour. “What makes you think I’ll let you?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

Steph stood her ground. “Fenrir and Bibi weren’t here.” she noted, staring up unflinchingly. “Loki loved those two more than anything else. I’ve seen the way they acted around her. She wouldn’t have let them to die of the cold anywhere. They’re still at your house, aren’t they?”

Antonia’s face became even sourer. “We’re coming to get them.” concluded Stephanie, defiantly. _“Now.”_

Tora kept waiting for the brunette to turn her back and leave, but she seemed to grow smaller under her friend’s stare. _“Fine,_ ” she hissed at last, pulling her cellphone out. “I’m calling for a ride. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”

It seemed like an eternity later when they were finally all safe inside Antonia’s house. Tora put Loki down on the couch, still wrapped in her cape, and sat on the floor next to her. She took the smaller girl’s injured hand between hers and concentrated, healing it as well as she could – there was a glimmer of red light and Loki’s fingers went back to normal, if slightly scratched. Then Tora let her head rest against the edge of the couch, still holding the other girl’s hand.

The hole inside her just kept getting bigger, crumbling at the edges. There was something eating her from the inside out, making it impossible to tear her eyes away from Loki.  “Don’t be dead,”  she whispered, almost unintentionally, squeezing her fingers.  “Please, don’t be dead.” 

There was noise behind her, and suddenly Fenrir was at her side, his front paws on the couch, his ears flat against his skull. He buried his nose in his owner’s neck and begun whimpering, as if he was crying. Not a second later, a cat whizzed past Tora, landing next to Loki’s hip – it tucked itself between her arm and her torso, curling tightly around itself as if it wanted to disappear, burying its face on the side of her body.

Tora had never seemed two animals looking so desolate before. 

“That’s Bibi,” whispered Steph, sitting on the floor next to her and Fenrir. “Loki’s cat.”

“Oh.” whispered the girl, faintly. Fenrir howled, the sound heartbreaking and terribly lonely. Stephanie dropped her eyes. 

Tora let her head fall again, still holding on to Loki’s hand. Her cat was trembling. So was she. She hadn’t even changed out of her Magical Girl outfit. Staring at Loki’s face, she felt the hole grow bigger and bigger by the second. 

_Please don’t be dead,_ she begged in her own mind.

.  
.  
.

Stephanie considered staying with Tora, but her friend seemed like she could use a moment alone – she, Fenrir and Bibi, were deep into their grief, and it wasn’t something to be shared with outsiders.

So she got up and followed Toni. She had a suspicion of where the girl would be, so she headed downstairs. 

_Bingo_ , thought Steph, spotting her through the workshop’s glass walls. Toni was hunched over a workbench, her hands gripping the edge tight, her head low and her shoulders tense. There were several screens around her, displaying different things – a news site with a headline about some businessmen in Europe called Bjorn Laufeyson, something that looked like a DNA test, several open files concerning a family tree, and an archive with a complicated title that seemed to do with spiders.

Sighing, and knowing this was probably a terrible idea, Steph knocked on the glass.

Toni startled, and looked back like she’d been caught doing something wrong, the screens dying out around her. She looked at Stephanie and pressed her lips together, letting out a deep breath. Then she walked to the door and typed the password, opening it. They stood face-to-face, a step distance between them, in silence.

Steph dropped her eyes. “Didn’t anyone believe you when you told them about Grief Seeds?” she asked, quietly. Toni sighed and shook her head.

“Loki knew, if that’s what you are asking.” she replied, neutrally. “She was aware of the consequences.”

“That’s not what I was asking.” disagreed the girl, tiredly, still averting her eyes.

“Then what are you asking?” whispered Toni, equally tired.

Stephanie rubbed her eyes, raising them again to look at her. “When Loki disappeared, you knew this was going to happen to her?” she inquired, quietly. “Was she… doing it on purpose?”

“Yes.” admitted the older girl, closing her eyes for a moment too long. She seemed exhausted. “There was nothing I could do about it. I can’t make people _want_ to live.”

“But why would she want to die?” murmured Steph, thinking of Tora, Bibi and Fenrir upstairs, refusing to let go of her body.

Toni shook her head. “There’s much about Loki that you didn’t know, Steph.” she replied, wearily. “Tora knows better than you, but not even she really understood. Loki knew she was going to turn into a Witch if she kept going, and she didn’t care anymore.” the girl run a hand through her hair. “And there’s something else.”

“What?” asked Stephanie, blinking.

“I need you to promise me you won’t go after her Witch.” said Toni, a serious, much harder strength to her voice. “I know the way you think, but that thing is not Loki anymore. Loki is _dead_. You can’t change that.” she put her hands on her shoulders and looked directly in her eyes. “Promise me you two won’t try to face that Witch.”

Stephanie looked back at her, the dark blue eyes that had unsettled her from the very first time they met, and slowly nodded. “I promise.” she agreed.

She wasn’t lying – not at the time, anyway.

.  
.  
.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed while Stephanie was away. Fenrir had curled in her lap, whining lowly, his head against her stomach – Bibi still hadn’t moved an inch from where she’d laid down.

There was a blur of movement at the edge of her vision – Tora raised her head, looking around. “Fury?”

“Hello, Tora.” greeted the panther, approaching. Fenrir’s ears snapped up and he growled threateningly, raising to his feet – the girl put a hand against his neck, and he sat back, losing his will. 

“What do you want, now?” she growled, ready to squash him if he tried to come any closer. Her anger was too strong to keep quiet – before she knew it, she was nearly yelling at him. “Loki was right about you. She was right all along. You are not our friend. You are…” she gulped, turning away. “You are a vile liar, a traitor and a coward. If I could kill you, I _would.”_

“Hm? Why are you so mad at me?” asked Fury, innocently, tilting his head. “I never lied to you.”

“You _cannot_ be serious!” choked Tora, feeling tears clogging her throat again. “You deceived us! You make us contract just so we will turn into monsters! It is _your_ fault! It is your fault that Loki is _dead!”_

“But Loki isn’t dead, Tora.” replied the panther, sounding almost confused. “From what I understand of human conceptions, you considered one to be ‘dead’ when their souls are lost, isn’t that so?” he licked one paw, rubbing it over one ear. “Loki’s soul isn’t lost. You know perfectly well where it is.”

Tora blinked, straightening up. “Do you mean…” she turned to look at him, drying the tears from her face. “Do you mean there is a way to turn her Soul Gem back?”

“Hmmm.” Fury tilted his head again, as if the notion intrigued him. _“As far as I know_ , there is none.”

Her heart did flip-flops in her chest. She interlocked her fingers with Loki’s, holding on tightly. “So there might be a way you are not aware of?” she insisted, refusing to let it go.

“Well,” the panther sat back, as if considering it. “The very existence of Magical Girls defies logic. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything you girls managed to do.”

“So there _is_ a way.” concluded Tora, glancing back at Loki. 

“There is no precedent,” warned Fury, evenly. “So I don’t know any means myself. Unfortunately, reason means little when it comes to Magical Girls.”

She let out a deep breath, nudging Fenrir away from her lap and getting on her knees. She held Loki’s hand between hers and squeezed it.  “Do not fear, my friend.”  she whispered, pressing the girl’s hand against her cheek.  “I will bring you back, if it’s the last thing I do.” 

Tora put her hand down gently, then pulled her Soul Gem out of her cape.  “Fenrir,”  she called, touching it to his neck.  “I need you to keep her warm while I’m gone. Can you do that for me? Can you keep her warm?” 

The dog licked her face, barked once, then climbed on the couch, lying next to his owner. Tora used her magic to make sure this would work, then cocooned the three of them under her cape.  “I’ll be right back.”  she whispered.

She was just getting to the door, when someone grabbed her wrist. Startled, she turned back to find two very familiar blue eyes piercing through hers. “If you are going _anywhere,_ ” said Stephanie, threateningly, “you’re taking me with you.”

Tora smiled, turning her hand so she could hold Steph’s. “I would never dream of charging into battle without you, Captain.”

Her friend’s face softened immediately. She nodded. “So… what’s the plain?”

Tora wished she had a plan. Mostly, she was just going with her gut. “The truth is…” she told Steph, on their way back to the Labyrinth. “Before Loki’s Soul Gem shattered, she was speaking so mysteriously.” the girl bit her lips. “She kept talking about what she had done to me, and the way it had been _before…_ it almost sounded as if she was trying to tell me something, but I cannot grasp _what.”_

“You think it was important?” whispered Stephanie, examining her friend’s face. Tora sighed.

“Verily.” she agreed, heavily. “It is almost as if… as if, if I could understand what she tried to tell me, I could save her.” she looked back at Steph sheepishly. “It makes little sense, but I feel it is the answer.”

Steph smiled at her. “I trust you, Tora,” she replied, trying not to think about her last talk with Toni. “We’ll figure this out.”

Several minutes later, as she stopped to trace Loki’s magic properly, Tora noticed Stephanie staring the way they had come with an anxious expression in her eyes, as if she was expecting something to happen.

“Stephanie,” she called, touching her friend’s shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

Steph turned her head back swiftly, seeming embarrassed. “Yes, I am all right.” she soothed, hurriedly.

“What is the matter?” insisted Tora, turning completely to her. The girl bit her lips, dropping her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, faintly. “I was just…” she hesitated, sounding frustrated. “I was just wondering if Toni is coming after us.”

Tora wrinkled her nose. “Why?” she asked, glancing uneasily at the general direction of her house. Stephanie sighed, rubbing her eyes.

“Because she doesn’t want us to do exactly what we are doing, right now.” she explained, her tone of voice implying she was nursing a major headache. “I think she was lying to me when she said she didn’t care about Loki. She just didn’t want us finding out what was going on with her. So I asked Fury…” her friend raised her eyes at her, the blue almost fading in the lighting. “Remember how Loki told you Toni had something she wanted, in exchange for helping her protect us?”

Tora frowned, shaking her head in agreement. “Yes. Why?”

“It wasn’t like that.” murmured Steph, worriedly. “Fury said the only thing Toni was offering Loki was accommodations and money. That she had actually asked her help, because…” she lowered her voice, leaning in secretively. “There’s a Witch coming to NY soon. A mythical one, Fury said they call it Walpurgis Night. The other Magical Girls won’t face it, and Toni can’t beat it by herself. And now that Loki is gone, the only one who could help her…”

“…would be me.” completed Tora, biting her lips. Would the bad news _never stop arriving?_ “How trustworthy do you believe his words to be?”

“I don’t know.” admitted Stephanie, shaking her head. “But Toni made me promise we wouldn’t come after Loki. So there might be a grain of truth to it.”

Tora looked away, restless. If such an enemy was truly coming to the city, they’d need all the help they could get – and it would explain some of Antonia’s merciless behavior, her mysterious agenda and cryptic speech. The girl couldn’t be sure if Fury’s words held any truth to them, but that seemed too far-fetched of a lie for such a fine trickster. “Let us go after Loki,” she decided, gravely. “For if we save her, there will be another ally to help us battle this Walpurgis Night, and if we do not…” she took a steadying breath. “That will mean there is truly no way of saving a fallen comrade.”

Stephanie’s eyes darkened. She laid a hand on her arm, supportive, holding on tight. Tora put her hand over hers and squeezed back. “What goes on in your mind, Cap?” she whispered, knowing that unsettled gleam in her friend’s eyes.

Steph gave her an annoyed look, the way she did when Tora read her a bit too well. “It’s not important right now.”

“I do not believe that.” replied the girl, evenly. Her friend used her _are you really going to press this_ face, and she just stared harder. 

“Oh, _fine.”_ Stephanie sighed, beginning to walk again out of restlessness. “It’s just that…” Tora walked after her, keeping an eye on her Gem. “Do you think… if this Walpurgis Night is really coming…” she took a deep breath. “Fury told me once… and I don’t know if it’s true, but… he said that I have more potential as a Magical Girl than Toni.” she gulped. “If it’s true, then it really wouldn’t be right for me to just… do nothing… when there’s a mythological _Witch…”_

“Stop right there, Stephanie.” interrupted Tora, almost angrily. “You are thinking of _contracting?”_

“Well, I…” 

_“No.”_ interjected the girl, looking at her from over her shoulder. “Steph,” she added, more gently, “if there really is no way of keeping us from turning into Witches… then I will have to explain it to my family, to James, to the girls – I will have to…” she gulped looking ahead. “It will probably cause them as much pain as I avoided through my wish.”

“You couldn’t have…” tried Stephanie, but Tora shook her head.

“What I am trying to say…” she began, searching for the right words. “Is that, if the price to save a thousand people is have you turn into a Witch, that is not a price I am willing to pay.”

Steph was silent behind her, but Tora could picture her face easily in her mind. She still remembered what had been like moving to New York by herself, worried sick about James, her mind stuck on him as if it was incapable of thinking of anything else. How it suddenly became so hard talking to people, connecting to them in any level, as if she was searching for someone else that they could never substitute. 

But then there was Stephanie. Who had managed to take her mind out of the hospital for a few hours each day. Who had stuck with her even when she was angry, and uncommunicative and distant. Who had smiled when Tora blew up at her the first time, told her where she could shove it the second time, and just stared at her the third time. “As a matter of fact, no.” she had said, voice cold as the bottom of a glacier, “I _don’t_ have anything better to do.”

“It is selfish of me.” whispered the girl, finally looking back. “And I understand it is not my decision to make. But I am sure I am not the only one who feels this way.”

Stephanie took a breath to say something, but ultimately seemed to decide against it. She hesitated, but finally made a single question, softly: “What about you?” 

Tora smiled, the motion feeling fake even to herself. “I also contracted for my own selfish reasons. I wanted James back.” She sighed, worrying more and more about Loki by the second. “We will worry about me when we finish this.” decided the girl, tugging Steph’s elbow to make her walk faster. “Right now, we must track Loki down before the trail of her magic disappears.”

Stephanie nodded, trying to shake the bad feeling off, and followed Tora closely.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. 

The entrance to Loki’s Labyrinth hadn’t moved in the time they were away. Tora put her finger in front of her lips, gesturing silence, and they went through as stealthily as they could. 

Inside the Labyrinth, they entered a long corridor like the one in an ice skating rink, as if they’d just exited the dressing rooms. There were posters plastered all over the walls, one on top of another, and the lights were flickering. Steph kept close to Tora, paying attention to her breathing to make as little noise as possible. Tora was struggling to see ahead, and because of that, it took her a considerable amount of time to notice the posters. 

She halted, making Steph bump against her back. “What’s wrong?” whispered her friend, carefully.

“The posters,” she whispered back, pointing. “They are moving.”

The effect wasn’t noticeable in all of them, but they were definitively moving, like small movie screens. Tora stepped nearer to the wall, examining the closest image: it was a dark bedroom, lit only by the street lights, and it was snowing outside. It was as if she was seeing it from the above: there was a girl sleeping in the bed, sprawled messily, her head almost falling off the edge. Loki was sleeping on the floor, in a mattress, tucked under a thick layer of covers, with Bibi by her pillow and Fenrir at her feet. She looked peaceful and rested and much happier. The image barely moved, only disturbed by the soft rise and fall of their chests.

 _Piper_ , thought Tora, her heart squeezing as she looked at the next poster. This one featured Peggy, in the middle of a Hunt, talking amicably with Piper. Loki seemed to be less than pleased about it, and, if her expression was anything to go by, wouldn’t stop nagging to her friend. Piper mostly ignored it, except to look sternly at the brunette, as if telling her to quit it. Tora kept walking. She saw Charlie amongst the images, appearing here and there. Peggy appeared considerably more. Piper was nearly everywhere, as were Bibi and Fenrir. 

Then, Piper begun to disappear, replaced by shots of Central Park and Loki by herself discreetly smuggling clothing and food inside her pockets. Fenrir began to look younger and younger, until they spotted Loki holding him as a puppy inside her sweater, laughing as he tried to lick her ears, and then he disappeared altogether.

The next images were of… Washington?

Tora froze, staring, thinking she might be going a bit insane because of the Labyrinth’s atmosphere: but she had lived in that town for about two years, and she knew the exact spot where Loki was standing in the picture, her Soul Gem out, probably hunting. Heart beating faster, she begun hurrying forward – picture after picture of familiar places, and she knew it was definitely Washington. Fury began to show up more and Bibi seemed to be gaining weight, which for some reason unsettled Tora. She hurried forward, knowing sooner or later she’d run into the moment Loki had contracted, except…

This particular image was plastered all over the walls. Loki was standing alone, drenched in sweat, looking pale and unbearably lost as she looked ahead, a hand half-outstretched at something or someone.

Tora _remembered_ it.

“No.”  gasped Tora, staring at the image horrified, her eyes widening.  “Oh, God, no.” 

“Tora?” called Stephanie, unsure, reaching out to her.

“It can’t be.”  she whispered, realization finally dawning upon her like a bucket of cold water.  “God, no. Oh God, _please_ , it can’t be…”

“Tora!” called out Steph, startled, when the girl darted ahead, desperately scanning the posters.

_(“Why do you do that?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Your accent. It comes and goes all the time.”_

_She didn’t hesitate: “I grew up in a bilingual home. I do it without realizing.”_

It had been a lie. As soon as her barriers had lowered enough, her English had completely disappeared. She’d told Tora herself, only hours ago, that Norwegian was her first language. Loki had been trying to hide her accent.)

Loki alone in a room that was terribly familiar and terribly alien at the same time, looking like a shell of herself as she talked to Fury. Loki sitting in a waiting room, eyes to the floor, expression haunted. Loki helping unload a truck – Tora knew this truck, was absolutely sure of it, and for a moment the panic blurred the images in her eyes…

_(“I did something bad. I didn’t plan for any of that to happen, but… someone got hurt. Badly hurt.”_

Loki had _tried_ to tell Tora. Had tried to explain it, maybe to apologize. She should’ve have known it. She would have never let James go out by himself in the woods. She knew it was dangerous. It had never made sense. Why didn’t she _listen_ to what Loki had been saying?)

Loki staring down with an expression of pure horror in her face, screaming, although she couldn’t listen to the words, screaming her lungs out…

_ (“It’s funny, isn’t it? I ended up doing the exact same thing to myself that I did to you.”  _

Why didn’t she _listen?)_

Loki reading a book in Tora’s living room. Elin braiding her hair as she smiled through the mirror. Taking the school bus with Tora. Putting out plates. Making puzzles together. Yelling at each other. Watching movies. Doing their homework. Sitting with her in the school infirmary as Tora felt her stomach wanted to go out of her throat. Loki playing with Bibi.

(No, not Bibi, Tora, you idiot, you idiot. Bite, Bitteline, Bibi. _That Bite_ , that had disappeared right after James’ accident. That she couldn’t remember ever adopting. That they had never remembered to feed. Idiot. _You idiot.)_

Loki unpacking her belongings at the house at Washington. Helping Tora put her clothes in the new closet – she had always been a terrible folder. Scowling at James while holding Bibi protectively in her lap. Loki and she in the living room surrounded by unopened boxes, making a huge line of dominos in the floor, giggling as they send them tumbling. 

(She couldn’t remember very well what she used to do on these first months after moving. Because she’d been at home. _With Loki_. Every memory she had of her gone, her brain hitting a blank wall whenever she tried to think about her…)

Loki at the house in Oslo, playing in the swing as Tora pushed her. Ice skating in the rink near Inga’s house and waving at her parents. Going shopping with her mother. Drawing in her father’s office. Stealing the icing from Tora’s birthday cake. Sitting in the snow-covered garden with a plate of dessert in her lap. Slamming the door to her bedroom.

(Her Loki wasn’t like that. Her Loki wasn’t a Witch. Her Loki was her little sister, with black hair braided black, bright green eyes and a gentle smile, and why couldn’t she remember more, _why couldn’t she remember it?)_

Walking to school with Tora. Waiting for Tora to come pick her up after classes. Being dragged by Tora to a game with her friends. Sleeping on Tora’s bed. Sneaking candies for her when she was grounded. Riding piggy-back on her back. Braiding Tora’s hair with her new hairdresser game. Toddling after her around the house. Playing pick-a-boo with her. Staring wide-eyed from her father’s lap while Tora made her funny faces.

_(“Doesn’t matter. It’s no different from the way it was before.”)_

How could she be so stupid?

_(“You know that I used to have a sister?”)_

How could she have been so _stupid?_

_(The little girl approaches her in the hospital, but Tora is so tired and so worried, she cannot remember, for the life of her, where she knows her from. She looks desperate, tired and lost, and gazes at her as if Tora has to know who she is, it is of the ultimate importance…_

_She doesn’t remember, she really doesn’t. She walks away and doesn’t look back._

_She should have looked back. Should have looked back. Why_ didn’t _she look back?_

 _She misses Loki_ so much.)

 _“TORA!”_ shrieked Stephanie, suddenly shattering her concentration. 

She stopped suddenly, her chest tight and hurting and burning and looked back. The corridor was moving, twisting like a living thing, and her friend was struggling to keep her balance as the floor rose and fell chaotically. Before Tora could recover enough to turn around and catch her, Steph missed a step and tumbled a long way, falling hard on her back. _“STEPHANIE!”_ screamed the girl, heart missing a bit, dashing towards her.

The whole corridor jumped forward, making Tora fall on her knees. They were hurled towards the center of Labyrinth at a sickening speed, passing through a blur of images and a high set of doors , before being thrown out in the tower Tora had seen before.

The Witch remained as the girl remembered her – tall, cold, covered with boiling rivers of blood, with eyes made of green ice.

Except it wasn’t. It was her little sister.

“LOKI!” called out Tora, above the howling of the wind.  “IT’S ME! IT’S TORA!” She tried to locate where Stephanie had landed, but it was hard focusing her eyes.  “LOKI, PLEASE – IT’S YOUR SISTER!”

The Witch howled, loudly, and a set of ice stakes froze behind her, their sharped tips pointed towards her. Tora’s heart squeezed even more.  “SISTER, PLEASE! IT’S ME! I REMEMBER YOU – YOU CAN STOP IT NOW! I REMEMBER YOU!”

She didn’t. Oh, God, she didn’t. How could she have been so blind? So foolish? _So cruel?_ She had missed Loki everyday of her life ever since she’d disappeared, and she had not even known it. Loki had been asking for help. She had been asking Tora to remember her. She was right, she had been right about everything all along. Tora didn’t understand her.

She’d hurt her. Her own sister had been alone, blaming herself for James’ accident, and she hadn’t been able to do _a thing_. She’d _hurt her._

 _“TORA!”_ called out Steph, her voice being carried by the wind. The girl jumped, trying to get a higher ground, and the Witch attacked her brutally, snow whitening her vision.

“LOKI! STOP IT!”  pleaded Tora. Loki had been trying to protect her. Loki had known about Witches and had been trying to protect her, to keep her from believing in Fury’s lies.

“I’M SORRY!” she cried out, trying to dodge from the ice stakes and find Stephanie.  “SISTER, I’M SORRY! YOU WERE RIGHT! YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING! BUT PLEASE STOP---” she got hit across the stomach, tumbling back and hitting the wall violently.

Somewhere far away, Stephanie seemed to be calling her. She struggled to get up, searching the tower for her friend. Finally, she spotted her, a leg pinned under a block of ice, desperately trying to kick it free. “STEPH!” she yelled, jumping away from the wall.

Another shower of ice skates fell upon her. The Witch kept hissing, its red cape billowing, steam turning redder as more and more blood flew through the ice cracks. Tora panted, leaning on her hammer to push herself upright – she must have broken a rib or two. “LOKI!” she cried, her throat already rough from yelling.  “I’M SORRY I DIDN’T REMEMBER YOU! SISTER, _PLEASE_. GO BACK THE WAY YOU WERE. _PLEASE!”_

A spider-shaped familiar jumped at her, trying to bite her leg. Tora hammered it, sending it away, but more were crawling towards her. Down on the floor, Stephanie was managing to crawl free from under the ice, but her leg was bleeding profusely. Even from up here, she could see the whiteness of her friend’s face.

_“LOKI!”_ yelled Tora, helpless, killing spider after spider until her fingers couldn’t feel a thing anymore.  “DID I HURT YOU SO MUCH?! WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME?

Stephanie shrieked as the familiars begun crawling towards her. Tora turned, killing off the last spider and darting towards the sound. She struggled to get to her friend, jumping from a stake to other, but there was too much in her way, too much snow, ice and red steam. She had managed to fight off the first wave of familiars, but another one was slowly coming down from the ceiling, and she was virtually defenseless, standing in the middle of the Labyrinth. 

She couldn’t do it.

Tora’s knees hit the floor, and she crumbled against her hammer, arms trembling, lungs aching. She was tired. Her Soul Gem was rapidly losing power. Loki wasn’t listening. And even though she knew the truth, she couldn’t even remember her properly. Did Loki know she was lying? Did she even care anymore? Tora could barely scream. Stephanie was in danger, and she was helpless to do anything about it.

“Please,” she begged, a sob cutting through her throat.  “Please, little sister. You can stop hurting, now. You can stop lying, already. Please… stop it…”

A flash of gold suddenly broke through the heavy fog in the Labyrinth. Startled, Tora spotted Antonia firing at the spiders with vicious fury, landing next to Steph as if challenging anyone to dare hurt her. She backed up with her weapons still aimed until she reached the girl – at this point, Steph had passed out, either from exertion or loss of blood. Antonia put her guns on their holders and crouched down, collecting Stephanie from the floor with extreme care. 

It was as if someone had cut Tora’s strings. Steph was out of danger. She could stop struggling already.

This had been all her fault. What had she ever done to Loki to make her feel this way? To make her feel like she had to lie and hide and pretend she was okay when she wasn’t? She had seen all the signs, all the clues, and she hadn’t realized it, hadn’t seen what was right in front of her.

Her own sister, and Tora had no idea.

“Tora,” called Toni, pulling her out of her thoughts. Stephanie was cradled in the girl’s arms, blood still dripping from her leg, although Toni seemed to have healed it already. Tora raised her eyes, tiredly, and the brunette stared back gently. “Grab Stephanie and get out of here.” she told her, soothingly, making as if to pass Steph to her arms. “I’ll finish her off for you, okay?” she promised, lowly, looking at her in the eyes.

For the first time, Tora noticed the tone of voice the girl used when speaking of her friend. The way she made her name sound almost like a prayer. Maybe she’d been wrong about Antonia, after all. “No.” she disagreed, shakingly raising to her feet. “I am in no condition for that, Antonia. I cannot protect Steph the way I am now. I already used up too much energy.” she looked at her friend’s face, pale against Toni’s tanned skin and her heart squeezed. “You have to get her out.”

The brunette looked at her, silent understanding showing through in her eyes. She held Stephanie closer. “Are you sure?” she whispered, gently. “You don’t have to do this, Tora. It wasn’t your fault.”

Tora smiled at her, leaning over and kissing Stephanie’s forehead. “I have to.” she disagreed, pulling her Soul Gem from her neck. “I am her big sister.” The girl stepped back, holding her Gem tightly in one hand. “Keep an eye on her for me, will you, Antonia? Do not let her contract. She deserves better than this.”

Toni dropped her eyes, turning away and nodding once, sharply. Tora knew she needed no further promise. “And tell her,” she added, turning away too, facing Loki’s Witch once again. “That I finally found out why I was always looking back.” She swung her hammer, gripping it tightly and bending her knees. “And I am fixing it now.”

Toni didn’t answer. Instead, she leaped towards the ground, and, probably stopping time on her way out, was suddenly gone.

Tora took a deep breath, calming herself for what she had to do.

_I’m sorry, everyone,_ she thought, as the snake rose to its full height, ready to strike at her.  _I’m sorry I’ll never be able to explain things properly to you. James, mother, father…I hope you can forgive me._

Tora’s magic bled into her hammer, the very last bit of it flowing through her veins towards it.  _It’s okay now, sister. You don’t have to be alone anymore_. She put her Soul Gem down on the ice carefully with the other hand.  _You never have to be alone ever again._ She raised her weapon as high as she could, one knee braced on the ice.  _I promise._

She brought the hammer down with all her strength, shattering her Soul Gem into dozens of pieces. And the explosion blew up the entire Labyrinth.

.  
.  
.

Standing outside, still holding Stephanie to her chest, Toni saw Loki’s Grief Seed fall to the floor with a soft _pling_. She waited a couple more minutes to see if her magic would work. Finally, Tora’s body slowly materialized next to the Grief Seed, covered in cuts from the explosion and slightly purple because of the cold.

She turned her back and lowered Steph to the floor slowly, sitting back on her heels next to her. “I’m sorry.” she told the girl, lowly. “That was the only thing I could do.”

She put her down gently until she was laying on the floor. It would be better to do something about Tora’s body before Stephanie saw her in that state.

.  
.  
.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Toni put her back on her feet carefully, acting as if she was afraid Steph wouldn’t be able to stand on her own. The girl held her shoulders firmly and pushed her away gently to indicate she was perfectly steady in her feet.

“I’ll pretend well.” she replied, honestly, keeping her voice low. Toni nodded, silently, looking tired. “What about…”

“I’ll take it to the police.” interrupted the brunette, merciful, in an even voice. “They’ll probably call her parents by morning.” she examined Steph’s face, carefully. “You really can deal with that?”

“You mean, pretending I didn’t know already?” replied Steph, smiling bitterly. She had never felt so bad in her entire life. She was dry, raspy and breakable. Brittle, as if all the water had been squished from her soul. Every part of her body hurt. Her heart felt hard and heavy in her chest.

Next to that, what was a little lie, right? What did it matter? “I’ll handle it.”

Toni examined her again, but finally simply nodded. “All right. I’ll get going then.”

Stephanie waved half-heartedly at the girl and waited until she was out of sight to get back inside. She opened the back door and walked to the living room in her socks, sitting down on the couch.

She heard a clock ticking and concentrated on that. She didn’t have the energy to think of anything else. 

Stephanie wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the phone began to ring. It took her a long time to realize her cellphone was the one making the noise, and not the main line. She got up, hearing startled grunts and noises from upstairs as she headed for the kitchen, where she’d left it on her way in. _“Hello?”_ she said, neutrally, giving her back to the living room.

She heard steps coming down the stairs and halting just behind her. There was a cop on the other side of the line, but it was hard concentrating on what he was saying. _“We called you because you were the first name in her phone contacts,”_ he was saying, in a low, emphatic tone, _“and we were hoping we could inform us her parent’s location, because they were not answering their phones…”_

Oh yeah, thought Steph, absently. _Jean changed Tora’s contacts to put me under America._

 _“Miss?”_ said the policeman, worriedly. _“Miss, are you still there? Are you still listening? Miss?”_

“Steph?” called Jean, putting a hand on her shoulder. Mutely, the girl handed her the cellphone. Confused, her sister put it to her ear, reassuming the conversation.

Stephanie sunk to the floor, coiling into a ball and covering her head with her arms. Someone – probably Brenna – crouched next to her, rubbing her back, asking her what was wrong. She was shaking. She couldn’t breathe.

And Tora was dead.

.  
.  
. 

_“All right,” called Jean, raising her eyebrows at Stephanie. “Am I going crazy? Did I eat something I shouldn’t? Is the world coming to an end?!”_

_Steph stared at her friend as ironically as she could. “You’re hysterical, Jean.” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “Just hysterical.”_

_“You’re dolling yourself up!” pointed out the girl, like an over-excited six year old. “You are going out? Is it a date?”_

_“First off,” said Steph, walking to her wardrobe to grab a coat._ “If _I had a date, I would never let you find out. Second,” she put it on, rolling her eyes again. “It’s just Tora. We’re going out to catch a movie and a burger.”_

 _“Oh,” her friend smiled, leaning a hand on her waist. “So she’s finally actually_ talking _to you?”_

_Stephanie smiled back, trying not to feel too giddy about it. “She’s always talked to me,” she told Jean, dismissively, but she knew her sister wasn’t being fooled._

_“Yeah, yeah, of course. Eat a lot of calories for me, would you?” she sighed, wishfully. Steph laughed._

_“I will.” she promised, kissing her cheek on the way out. “I’m ready! Let’s go?” she called out, catching up to Tora at the front door. The girl shrugged, smiling back a bit hesitantly and opened the door for her._

.  
.  
.

When Jean finally left Steph alone in their room, the girl wanted to do nothing but sleep, and yet she couldn’t. Every time she closed her eyes she saw those horrid spiders crawling their way towards her friend.

She had thought about asking Toni what Tora had meant, but in the end, it didn’t really matter. She knew very little about Loki, and whatever it was the girl had been trying to tell Tora – if it had been important enough to make her best friend commit suicide, it might be best left between just the two of them.

She’d thought it couldn’t get worse than the pain she felt after Peggy’s death, but it was _different_ with Tora. It was duller, but much deeper.

“Stephanie,” called a familiar voice, “can I come in?”

The girl raised her eyes. Fury was sitting by her window, a paw resting against the glass. He did a perfect job out of looking adorable. It would be infuriating if she had any energy left. “What do you want?” she asked, turning his back on him.

“I just want to talk to you.” replied the panther, reasonably. “Are you going to let me explain?”

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Steph sat up in her bed, opening the window enough for him to come in, and closing it again with more force than strictly necessary. “Say what you have to, then get out.” she told him, flopping back on her pillows. 

“That was harsh.” commented Fury, sitting on her nightstand where he used to sleep. “Are you mad at me?”

“You killed my best friend.” said the girl, staring straight ahead without seeing.

“Hm? I don’t think that statement is correct.” remarked the panther, tilting his head. Did he do it _just_ to look innocent? “Tora died fighting Loki in her Labyrinth, isn’t that right?”

“Does it _matter?”_ Stephanie sat up again, her voice and her hands shaking. “None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for you. You…” she gulped her tears. “You turned them into Magical Girls _just_ so they’d turn into Witches? Do you _like_ seeing us miserable? What the hell do you _want?”_

Fury stared back unflinchingly. Just now Steph really noticed his expression never seemed to change. He sighed. “I don’t like seeing you miserable, Stephanie. We don’t have anything against humanity. We’re doing this for the sake of the greater good.” 

“Say, Stephanie. What do you know about ‘entropy’?”

“Nothing.” answered the girl, hugging her knees against her chest. “I don’t know what that is and I don’t care.”

“Well, but it has everything to do with the subject at hand,” retorted Fury, patiently. “Let me give you a simple example. The energy you get from a bonfire isn’t the same amount of energy needed to grow the firewood. A part of the energy is lost in the process of changing it.”

“That’s not true.” interrupted Steph, without looking at him. “Energy can’t be lost or created. I am not _stupid_ , IC. Stop lying to me.”

“I am sorry,” replied the panther, unfazed. “I was trying to simplify it for you. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that _useful_ energy is lost in the process. Not all kinds of energy is accessible for our use, after all.” he paused, humming under his breath. “The amount of useful energy in the universe is decreasing. That’s why we were searching for a source of energy that wasn’t bound by the laws of thermodynamics.”

“And that was when we found out the power of Magical Girls.”

Stephanie hugged her knees tighter, her bones hurting as she thought of them – Peggy, Tora and Loki, all dead within two weeks from each other because of Fury. “What _are_ you?” whispered the girl, still refusing to look at him.

“To put it in simple terms, my species is what you’d call an ‘alien’.” explained the panther, nonchalant. “We created the technology that allows us to convert a living being’s emotions into useful energy. Unfortunately, we aren’t capable of producing that which you call ‘feelings’. So, for that purpose, we searched amongst many life forms in the universe until we found you: humanity.”

Steph buried her head in her arms. She didn’t want to listen to this. She didn’t want to know she’d trusted something that couldn’t even feel emotions. If you couldn’t feel a thing, you might as well be dead, couldn’t you?

Fury kept talking. “If you consider the sheer number of human beings in this planet and, specially, the intensity of their emotions, you’ll see why you were such a promising prospect. And the energy only one of you produces increases as you grow older. Your souls are a source of energy that enables us to counter-balance entropy.” her breath sped up as she listened to this, anger clawing at her throat. “Mostly, we found out the constant ‘mood swings’ of hope and despair present in girls your age were the most effective.” He stopped, humming again, as if considering. “Males of your species seem to experience as many emotional fluctuations, but that is a fact we only discovered recently. We’re still considering the most profitable way of approaching them.”

“You do this to us because we’re hormonal _teenagers?”_ whispered Steph, staring wide-eyed at nothing. Tears rose to her eyes again. _“That’s_ what you meant when you said adults aren’t as powerful as us. _That’s_ why you only contract with us?” she finally turned around to face him, face white with anger. “Loki was trying to warn us, wasn’t she? She knew the truth about you! You _used_ her and you used Tora, for… for what? Just to make…” she chocked, holding back tears. “Just to make them suffer?”

Fury sighed again. “When your Soul Gems burn out and become Grief Seeds, they emit an unimaginable amount of energy. It is my duty as an Incubator to collect that energy, Stephanie – I don’t contract with you girls meaninglessly.” 

_“My best friend is dead!”_ sobbed Steph, unable to think through that fact. “The girl I was in love with is dead! Loki was only thirteen years old _and she is dead!_ That is _completely_ meaningless!” she resisted the urge begin crying again. “We are _not_ batteries for you to use as you please and then throw us away! We are not _disposable!”_

Fury sighed, as if she was being unreasonable . “Stephanie, have you any idea how many different species exist in the universe right now, consuming energy? Thanks to your technological development, you’ll soon leave this planet and join them. It would do no good if the universe was dying by the time this happened, would it?” he licked a paw, calm and composed. “If you think about it, I’m sure you’ll realize it’s not an unfair exchange.” 

_“An unfair exchange?”_ she repeated, her chest whizzing with grief. “You lied to us. You manipulated us. You made us believe we were fighting to keep people safe, when you were actually just…” she sobbed, trying hard to breath in. _“You_ were actually the one hurting people!”

“But,” protested Fury, jumping in her bed. She flinched, backing away from him, “we only form contracts when you girls agree to it. How is that ‘manipulating’ you?”

 _“You tricked us!”_ she hissed, mustering every last bit of willpower not to scream and hit him with Jean’s make-up bag.

“We don’t even understand that concept, Stephanie.” replied the panther, patiently. “When you regret a wrong decision made by mistake, you humans tend to hate the other party for some reason. We don’t really understand that reasoning.”

“God, don’t you understand _anything?”_ she half-laughed, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes. “How could you watch them fall apart like this and not understand it?”

“We have problems understanding human behavior.” admitted Fury, as if it hadn’t been a rhetorical question. “Presently, your population is of 6.9 billion and it keeps growing exponentially by the second. So why do you make such a fuss about the loss of only one more?”

Stephanie would never again be able breath through the new void in her chest. “They weren’t just ‘one more’ to me.” She hid her face again, letting the tears go free. “Please go away.”

“I was only trying to show you the great benefit your sacrifices bring.” said Fury, getting up. “It didn’t work, did it?”

“Go. _Away.”_ growled Steph, grinding her teeth. He sighed and jumped back to the window, stopping to look at her.

“Stephanie – you should know, if you contract, you would be the most powerful Magical Girl to ever exist. By consequence, you would burn into the most powerful Witch in history, powerful enough to release an unprecedented amounts of energy.” she held her breath. “If you ever feel like dying for the sake of the universe, simply call me.”

He jumped out of the window, leaving Stephanie alone. She pulled the covers over her head again, not even noticing the stuffy air beneath it. Was she never going to wake up from all of this? Tora _couldn’t_ be dead. Fifteen-year-olds didn’t just… die so suddenly. So bluntly. She hadn’t even said anything to Steph. The last time she’d gotten a proper look at her friend’s face, Tora was staring at the images of Loki’s memories looking as if she’d been visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past. 

Stephanie hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye. 

.  
.  
.

Toni stared at the lit screens around her. The light was already beginning to hurt her eyes. Not even the caffeine was keeping her up anymore – to be honest, this wasn’t really profitable by this point. She should go to sleep.

She really didn’t want to go to sleep.

Would it ever get easier? Wondered the girl, her eyes traveling around the workshop tiredly. Seeing them fight, figuring out IC’s lies, killing each other, dying off? Would it ever get easier? 

Why was she even thinking that?

Rubbing a hand against her face, Toni turned off the screens, silencing the workshop. She was just about to get up, when she heard a faint noise. She sat down again. “IC.” she said, neutrally, waiting for him to show up in her line of sight. “Nice for you to show up.”

“You think so?” replied the Incubator, sitting in front of her on the floor. “My presence is generally so unwelcome in here.”

“Steph broke her promise.” stated Toni, right to the point, her expression closed off. “She wasn’t lying when she made it. That has to mean going after Loki was Tora’s idea. Tora was the one who wanted to save Loki.” 

“It was a foolish idea.” commented Fury, simply. “Of course it’s impossible to bring back a fallen Magical Girl.”

The girl felt her blood boil. _“Then why didn’t you stop her?!”_ she yelled, grabbing a gun by the nearest table.

The panther didn’t flinch. “Of course, if it had been a useless sacrifice, I would have stopped her. But Tora’s death served a more important purpose.” his tail twitched. “Now you are the only person left to defeat Walpurgis Night – and Stephanie is perfectly aware of that. To keep this town from being destroyed, she’ll have to contract.”

Toni looked up. Yinsen was half-smiling at her from the photograph in her workbench, with that same knowledgeable twinkle in his eyes he always had when alive. She barely had to look at the picture to remember it. She had eidetic memory after all.

“I will never” she whispered, putting the gun down forcefully, “ever, _ever_ let you do that.”

Not as long as she still had a breath in her body.


	11. "I Promise"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: character death. Car accident resulting in serious injury. Depiction of "child soldiers", emotional manipulation, and mentions of terrorism.
> 
> Note: my beta has been a bit caught up with Grown-Up Problems (mainly, she's got a new job!) and thus a significant part of the chapter has not been beta-ed. Once she's got more time I'll repost the revised version. Please excuse any awkward term that might pop-up, as english is not my first language and I get confused about "false friends" some times. Thank you!

The car accident had been a mix of unfortunate circumstances, the authorities had declared. It had been no one’s fault.

First, it had happened at night, which is never a good time for visibility. Second, it had been raining heavily for hours – the road was slippery, the traffic heavy, the drivers anxious to get home. The chances of an accident happening were naturally higher, but the way everything had happened was equally unfortunate.

Toni’s heart injury, to begin with, could have been easily avoided if the back door hadn’t carved in just the way it did, or if the girl hadn’t hit it at just the right angle. If the first car had crashed against it a bit differently, it wouldn’t have fallen out, Toni wouldn’t have been tossed out, and her spine wouldn’t have been damaged. Finally, if the second car hadn’t hit the front of _their_ car, it was possible her parents would’ve survived.

The secretary Obadiah had sent crossed her legs, closing the file she’d been reading from. “That’s all the information we have so far.” she concluded, efficiently, putting it by her nightstand. “I brought you a copy if you wish to look at it yourself.”

Toni eyed the files with little interest. Barely anything could her attention these days, except for her medicine schedule and keeping track of the adjectives the news kept using when referring to the accident. “Tragic”, “genius” and “young” were the most popular by far. Out of habit more than anything else, the girl checked to see if her leg was hurting – it _should_ be, considering it was broken – but nope. Not even a little bit. No pain, no itch, no feeling at all. 

Her chest, though, was a different story all together.

“And there’s one more thing, Antonia.” said the woman, evenly, and Toni looked back at her. She hadn’t tried to sugar-coat the situation so far, or to offer her sentiments, which was fine by her. Besides, she was pretty – seriously pretty. Ginger, with very high heels, tall and lean with freckled cheeks. Toni almost liked her. “The insurance company and the police will need you to make a statement.”

“About…?” replied the girl, lowly, because even speaking hurt. Ms. Potts took out a second set of papers from her purse. Efficient. 

“They just want your account on what happened. We are keeping them off for as long as we can, but eventually they’ll want to talk to you. I just thought you’d like a heads up.”

Toni wondered what the woman had done to get stuck with the job of confronting the grieving orphan. Of course Obadiah wouldn’t come talk to her himself, the slimy liar. Toni hoped she’d get a fruits basket for all her trouble. The girl nodded to signalize she got it, then went back to watch the news.

“And Antonia?” called Ms. Potts again, as she got up from the visitor’s chair. “I don’t think I need to remind you that if you die, Mr. Stane will probably be my boss forever.” she fixed a hard, frightening look on her. “And I’m _sure_ you wouldn’t want that.”

Was she threatening her?

Holy shit, she was threatening her.

Against her will, because it hurt as hell when she did that, Toni let out the smallest puff of laughter. “Got it.” she replied, because that’s all that she could force out.

Ms. Potts didn’t smile exactly, but her face softened slightly, and then she was gone, and _sweet baby Jesus_ , it only hurt when she breathed. 

Well, she knew what she was telling the police when they finally decided to ask. Obadiah would probably want to kill her. She couldn’t say she really cared.

They wanted to know whose fault the accident had been? They didn’t need to look any further: it had been Howard’s. 

They had been out at a party that night, where Toni had been expected to charm the guests with her wits – but not too much, so as to not steal her father’s spotlight - discuss the latest projects she’d been working on – but not too extensively, because they sounded like the work of a mad scientist – and smile at everyone until her cheeks hurt – and a bit more afterward. She had actually spent most of it trying to avoid Obadiah and/or her father and, humiliating as it was, hiding behind her mother’s skirt.

Toni’s relationship with Maria was… complicated. Her mother didn’t really understand her, didn’t see how blowing stuff up in the workshop, ruining her nails hopelessly and burrowing herself up at home could make her happy. Toni could probably connect easier with a computer than she could with her mother. But on the other hand, if Maria didn’t understand her, she also never tried to change her. The woman took her side in most arguments. Helped her sneak out of parties. Sponsored her most daring experiences.

Toni let her hair grow out because of her. It was a nuisance, a real pain to keep, but… her mom liked it. 

Her relationship with Howard was different. To be honest, it was best not to open that can of worms. She was trying to convince him to let her go to MIT – supported by Obadiah, because he apparently thought that would buy her favor – but so far, she’d had no luck. Maria seemed less than pleased about the prospect, but was still backing her up on this. 

“…she’s only fourteen, Howard, those gathering are boring for her…”

“So now she’s only fourteen? She’s old enough to go to college, but not to act like a decent host at a party?”

“Well, but she was _not_ the host, honey, and you always lay down so many rules…”

“She has a responsibility as my daughter, Maria!”

“You always seem to forget she’s _my_ daughter, too, Howard, and in fact…”

At this point, Toni had tuned their voices out, concentrating on her tablet instead. Lately, she had been playing around with repulsor technology, something discarded by the main labs of Stark Industries. Prematurely, according to her. She was tucked behind the driver’s seat, trying to make herself as small as possible to avoid reminding her parents – _specially_ her father – that she was still present.

Howard had probably drunk more than he should to be driving. The two of them were too busy yelling at each other to watch the road. Her father went right through the red light.

She heard her mother screaming before she felt the impact. One second she was running calculations and trying to remember different Mineral’s densities, the other Maria’s voice pierced her ears and she was being brutally thrown against the door. She got tossed across the backseat, slamming into the opposite side of the car, and sharp, pure agony burned through her body. 

Then, as if someone had switched off the colors, the pain began to bleed away, and Toni stared ahead blankly, trying to understand what was going on. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was probably going into shock, but even that slowly disappeared. The pain subsided into a steady throbbing, stealing her breath away. Her mind went blank, unable to put two thoughts together – it felt like she’d spent an eternity suspended in that state.

It had only lasted a couple seconds.

Another impact shook the car, shattering glass, busting the back door loose. Toni was violently pushed out of the back seat, and hit the ground the wrong way, too fast, feeling another wave of agonizing pain shoot up her spine.

She lay in the asphalt, being drenched by the still-falling rain and tried to find the smallest support point for her mind as her body begun to slowly drift away from her. She tried moving, but her control over her limbs was next to zero – she could barely feel her legs. _Could_ she feel her legs? Should she be worried about that?

Was she was bleeding? She was cold. She was getting colder by the minute. Why was her chest hurting? Why was her mind _not working?_

She didn’t know that yet, but it would be months before she could draw another breath.

.  
.  
.

Her parents both died before emergency could even arrive at the local. Toni held on for long enough to get to the hospital, and survived by a hair width. Her left leg was broken. There was a nasty chunk of skin missing from her right arm where she’d flayed it on the asphalt. The broken glass had left behind several cuts in varying degrees of ugliness. The internal bleeding was _a bitch._

Oh, and she had also supported minor injury to her spinal cord, which meant she couldn’t feel her legs _and_ gotten her heart punctured by a sharp piece of metal. 

Whoop-de-doo.

After the accident, after waking up in a strange bed, in a strange room, with shaky memories, Toni shut off completely. 

It was as if someone had pulled out a valve or a crucial gear, as if her body had stopped belonging to her. It might have been the surgeries, that made her feel as if someone had pulled out her stuffing. It might have been the pain meds, that made her brain fell like cotton. It might even have been the numbing _boredom_ , because making the smallest motion sent her pain centers into a frenzy. 

It might have been the fact that her mother and father were _dead_ , and that her only visitor – and only sporadically – was Obadiah. Who by the way, was now her legal guardian. It might have been that, but Toni wasn’t thinking about it.

The nightmares were frequent, graphic, and very gory. The worst of them was the one where her flesh began rotting before her very eyes, as if she was turning into a zombie. She dreamt about suffocating most often. Loud noises soon became unbearable – her heart went mad whenever she heard them, and considering it was barely able to hobble along at its best, suddenly sprinting was such _a bad_ idea. 

And she was paralytic. With good prospects, given enough time and rehab, but still – she couldn’t feel her _legs_ , for fuck’s sake.

The first month, Toni didn’t speak unless spoken to, and unless it was strictly necessary. She spent a lot of her conscious time staring at her cardiac monitor, although it irked the doctors, because they began thinking she was suicidal. She wasn’t suicidal. That would be very tiring. Instead, she just stared at them, because they didn’t demand any fancy thinking. She stared at them until she went back to sleep, and didn’t as much as peep, bearing through the pain.

When her condition improved enough to allow her to turn around by herself, Toni begun staring at the window instead, lying on her side, and feeling her body as if it was an alien thing, something distant and uncomfortable. She was in a permanent state of confusion, because so little of her thoughts made any sense anymore.

And she slept a lot, too. Not because it felt like being dead – she wasn’t suicidal – but because she didn’t know what else _to do._

And then, one day, there was a shift of staff. She was just coming to herself when the new nurse entered her room for the first time, and the heart monitor suddenly began beeping like crazy. The woman approached urgently, calling out from over her shoulder and Toni stared up at her with wide eyes.

She looked _so much_ like Maria. And suddenly Toni realized exactly how fucking _horrible_ she had been feeling up until now – because for a second, just a split, drug-induced, sleepy second, she’d thought it was _actually_ her mother. And then reality came crashing back in.

She was _miserable._ That had been the problem all alone. She was utterly, insanely, hopelessly _miserable._

And in front of half her medical team, Toni covered her eyes with her arms, every single muscle hurting from the motion and _screamed_ until her throat was raw and her lungs were in fire. She sobbed so hard the doctor had to redo some stitches.

She wasn’t any less miserable by the time she finally stopped. But she was a great deal angrier.

If they thought any of this was going to stop her, they were sorely wrong. If her fucker of a drunk of a father thought she was going to forgive him for killing her mother and nearly killing _her_ , he could rot in hell waiting for forgiveness to come. And if Obadiah thought he could have _her_ company? Well, Ms. Potts was right. He was a terrible boss. She’d hate to leave such a nice person under his paycheck.

“So, anyway,” she asked the doctor the next time the man entered her room, “when do I start rehab?”

He wasn’t completely successful in hiding his smile.

.  
.  
.

About a week after she first entered the rehab center, Toni realized three things. A, her physiatrist did knew what he was doing, but he really needed to stop being offended she was smarter than him. It wasn’t her fault she was a genius! She just was! Did he really expect her to just take his word for it? Really?

B, her physical therapist was _awesome_. She was a woman from Indian descent nicknamed Samantha “Sammy, The Merciless” Sharma. Toni crushed on her hard, which probably should worry her more, considering Sammy totally lived up to her title. She was particularly fond of the phrase “you can try a little harder” and was generally assigned to the worst tempers around. They either hated her or were secretly in love with her. In general, she was just awesome.

C, if her heart would stop having attacks every five seconds and she actually survived long enough to inherit Stark Industries, she was designing a flying chair if it killed her. Fucking. Stupid. _Sonofabitch!_

“You need help with that?”

Toni stopped what she was doing and looked right. A man in glasses and sweats, with a receding hairline and a gentle expression was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, as if wondering just what the hell she was doing – but politely. He had an accent, a kind, ironic gleam to his eyes, and looked as if he knew the periodic table by heart. 

He was also in a wheelchair. Toni stared for a long time, trying to weight her _immediate_ need for sugar with her unwillingness to accept help. “You have any idea how to reach the oreos?” she finally asked, pointing to the candy machine.

“Why, yes,” said the man, smoothly, nodding his head as if considering it. “Of course. You call a nurse.”

Toni stared at him. “Or,” he added, grabbing something from behind his chair and offering it to her, “you could use one of those.” 

The girl grabbed the object. “Isn’t this a back scratcher?” she inquired, turning it around. 

“That was its original intent, yes.” agreed the man, shrugging. He looked at the machine. “Are you going to try it?”

Sending him a mild ironic look, Toni turned around and struggled with the tiny buttons for a few moments – finally, the package fell with a satisfying _bump_. “Oh, _yes.”_ she said, snatching it away and opening it earnestly. “Sugar.”

The stranger took his scratcher back, smiling amusedly. “If I may say so, considering you are buying from the visitor’s machine, are you strictly allowed to eat that?”

“Do you care?” she replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

He pressed his lips and looked away as if considering. “No. I can’t say I do.” he finally answered, simply. 

“They won’t let me eat burgers.” muttered Toni, holding a cookie between her teeth as she awkwardly tried to maneuver her chair. Flying chair. Pronto. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? “Who are you, again?” she added, looking at the man.

“You mean you don’t remember me?” he asked, and the girl thought she’d never heard someone not giving a fuck sounding so polite. It was impressive. “My name’s Yinsen. We met at Bern, at a technical conference. You kept interrupting a lecture on integrated circuits.” he moved his wheelchair much more skillfully than her. “You were eleven.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I remember that.” replied Toni, finally managing to turn the chair the right way after much struggle. “If you’ll excuse me, my therapist isn’t done making me suffer for the day.”

“Oh, yes. Dr. Sharma is taking care of you.” he nodded, making a face that almost spelled ‘man, you’re so fucked’ before rolling away. “Good luck.” he called over his shoulder, pleasantly.

Well, it was not like Toni had a whole lot _to do_ in this place anyway. Honestly, that conversation had probably been the most interesting thing that had happened to her the whole week. That had been why she talked to him again. That was the _only reason_ she’d talked to him again.

“So, anyway,” she said one day at the cafeteria, over a game of backgammon, “you never told me where you’re from.”

“I’m from Gulmira.” repplied the man, rolling the dice and drinking a deep gulp of his drink. “A small village in Afghanistan.” He smiled briefly up at her. “It’s actually a nice place.”

“That’s pretty far.” replied Toni, raising her eyebrows at him. “Do you have a family?”

“Yes.” he agreed, simply. “And I’ll see them, when I leave here.”

The girl raised her eyes, resisting the urge to scratch at her arm. The skin was prickly as it grew back in. “Do you have any idea when that’ll be?” she asked, nonchalant.

“Not so soon.” he murmured, unfazed. “As a matter of fact, in the present moment, I have been living here.”

“At the rehab center?” She blinked, looking around her automatically. “Do they have permanent rooms?”

“Oh, yes,” confirmed the man, adjusting his tie. “For people whose families can’t take care of at home. It’s comfortable enough.” he rolled the dice again. “I do most of my work from here.”

“And what is that?” replied Toni. Her feet would be dangling under the table, if she wasn’t – you know. In a wheelchair. On a table with proper height for wheelchairs.

“I’m an engineer, Stark. Like you.” he gave her one of his amused looks. The brunette was starting to suspect their meaning. She was beginning to think they meant “oh, look at you, you adorable privileged white rich kid, you.” It didn’t bother her. “I was impressed by your knowledge in that lecture, even though security had to ask you to leave.”

The girl couldn’t help but smile. She had annoyed the hell out of her father that day. It had been funny. “If you have the time,” she said, tentatively, keeping her eyes on the board, “I could show you some of the things I’ve been working on.”

There was a pause long enough to make Toni fidgety. When she finally mustered the will to look up, Yinsen was smiling at her calmly, gently, as if the world could explode and he would not lose his patience. “Of course,” he agreed, snatching some pieces from the board. “That’d be very interesting.”

Toni smiled back at him.

.  
.  
.

Rehab was slow. Very slow. _Too_ slow. One time or another, Toni was bound to snap at somebody. She just didn’t think it would be at Sammy – she thought, most likely, she’d end up telling her physiatrist where he could shove his god complex. As it was, she actually lost it at the woman, with her wavy black hair pulled back in a low ponytail, her willingness to cuss and zero tolerance of her bullshit. She had snapped at one of the few people she actually liked and she had been really nasty while at it.

God fucking damn it.

“Ah, so this is where you are holed up, is it?”

Toni raised her head begrudgingly, and there was Yinsen, rolling his wheelchair towards her. He had made very little progress in _his_ rehab. Truth be told, he would never walk again, and he probably knew that. “Are you going to go all Mr. Miyagi on me, Yinsen?” she asked, her arms still crossed, staring ahead stubbornly. “Because if you are, then you shouldn’t bother.”

“Are you going to make any other racist remarks?” replied the man, pleasantly, stopping his chair next to her. “Because if you are, then you shouldn’t bother.”

Toni glanced at him. “Sorry.” she muttered, shortly. She knew she’d have to ask for help to get out of here. She’d pushed her wheelchair to the reception, maneuvered herself into one of the guest’s seats and shoved the chair away. People looking for a paralyzed girl tended to ignore the ones sitting in regular chairs.

But she hadn’t accounted for Yinsen, of course, and his damn uncanny ability to predict her. It was unsettling at best and creepy at worst. She supposed it was less humiliating than having to ask a nurse to bring her chair over, but Yinsen wouldn’t let her just get away with it. Feelings. She didn’t want to talk about _feelings_ , goddammit. 

The man didn’t seem to be in any hurry, though. He stationed his wheelchair next to her and crossed his hands on his lap, humming under his breath. Toni stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

“You know,” said Yinsen, finally, contemplatively rolling his thumbs. “You never did ask me how I became paralyzed.”

She eyed him, wondering where this was going. “Is it important?”

“That depends on your point of view.” he looked at her with a slightly more pissed off version of his “oh, you special snowflake” stare. “It is important _to me.”_

Yep, there was the special snowflake look. “Okay.” she paused, letting out a sigh, prepping herself mentally for this conversation. She wasn’t going anywhere so soon. “So… how did you get like this?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

He nodded once at her, acknowledging she’d gotten it right – _what am I? A puppy? Seesh_ , thought Toni, trying very hard not to feel approval-starved – then settled down comfortably, taking a deep breath. The girl was expecting a lengthy, in-depth life history, probably accompanied by a musical score and a voice-over explaining the lesson learned at the end, but Yinsen was never one to fulfill other people’s expectations.

“I got shot.” 

And that was it.

“That was enlightening.” deadpanned the girl, giving him her most unimpressed look. She was never going to out-unimpress Yinsen, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t _try._

“Indeed, it was.” mused the man, pleasantly, as placid as a toad. He was doing it on purpose, wasn’t he? Yeah, he was totally doing it on purpose. 

“You have too much time in your hands.” she mumbled, shaking her head. “All right, I’ll bite it. _How_ did you get shot?”

“Oh, yes, that.” he murmured, as if it was an intriguing notion. Toni rolled her eyes. “Well…”

The girl immediately caught the change in mood – the way he looked down, that his shoulders slumped as if something heavy had just landed on them, the way his voice got slightly quieter and graver. She almost stopped breathing to keep from disturbing him. Yinsen took a small breath and glance up at her. “You remember my small village I told you about? Gulmira?”

Toni agreed earnestly, keeping her eyes on him. He shook his head, looked ahead again and proceeded. “It got gunned down by a terrorist cell called The Ten Rings.” he said, calmly, his eyes fixed on the wall. “I got hit by a stray bullet, which was very fortunate to me, because their chief figured keeping me alive wasn’t a good use of his time.” a small ironic smile played at his lips, then disappeared. “A couple of good friends helped me to the next town, where my sponsors figured keeping me alive was a good use of their time.” he opened his hands, shrugging and looked back at Toni. “That, Antonia, was how I got the way I am.”

Toni dropped her eyes, trying to think of something to say, but her brain wasn’t being very helpful. She had a lot she wanted to _ask_ – but the worlds didn’t seem to come. “I’m sorry about your town, Yinsen.” she finally said, lamely.

“Thank you, Antonia.” he answered, softly, nodding once. “But there’s more.”

“There is?” she looked up at him, surprised. What now? Had terrorists shot his dog, too? She frowned. “What is it?”

Yinsen sighed, looking suddenly much wearier. “I’ve been debating on whether or not I should tell you this, Antonia,” he admitted, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You are only fifteen, after all. It’s not right to dump this sort of responsibility on you.” Toni waited, confused, a bit thrown off by the worry in Yinsen’ face. “But if I’ve learned anything about you, is that keeping the truth from you, will be no different from lying.”

“What truth?” replied Toni, her heart speeding up in her chest. She was actually scared at that moment. She had never seen Yinsen looking so serious.

He hesitated a moment before answering, keeping his voice low. “The guns the Ten Rings used, the riffles, the bombs, the missiles…” the girl’s blood went cold as she understood it before it could be said “…most of them were Stark weaponry.”

Toni didn’t realize she was shaking her head. “That isn’t possible, Yinsen.” she replied, the tip of her fingers loosing feeling. “My father was… my father was a great fucking deal of things, but he wasn’t a trafficker.” she fixed a hard glare on the man. “He didn’t sell guns to terrorists.”

“Not your father, no.” agreed Yinsen, simply, shaking his head. “I don’t think he did it, either, Antonia. But your father wasn’t the only person in the company with means to traffic, was he?”

Toni frowned, trying to work out what he meant. The gears in her brain began spinning like crazy, random facts popping out and linking themselves almost without her trying. “You mean…” she blinked, looking around to make sure they were alone. “You mean someone is dealing under the table? But who…”

And then it hit her, like a hammer to the head. 

“Obadiah.” she looked at Yinsen with wide eyes. _“Obadiah?_ You think he’s selling weapons to terrorists? I mean…” she pushed her hair out of her face. “I know he’s a slimy bastard, but… you think he actually could…” she closed her eyes, shaking his head. _Of course_ Stane could. Half the time, her father had been too drunk to pay attention to what his partner was doing. “Why didn’t you tell _the police?”_ she asked Yinsen, livid.

“I told them.” replied Yinsen, simply, shrugging.

“Then why the hell…” Toni blinked, sagging as she understood. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”

“It was the word of a crippled, traumatized pacifist against the word of a multimillionaire corporation.” he shrugged again, spreading his hands. “Whoever is responsible for this, they are remarkably good at hiding evidence.”

Typical, thought Toni, shaking her head. She had always known he was two-faced, sneaky and calculating – but to actually provide guns illegally to _terrorists?_ Just so they could gun down innocent people in unsuspecting villages? How long had he been doing this? How could her father have never _suspected?_ What else had he been selling them? Out of all Stark Industries projects…

Suddenly the blood drained from her face. “Oh, _shit.”_ she covered her mouth with her hands, leaning her elbows on her knees. “Oh, no. Shit. _Fuck._ I’ve been making him weapons! Ever since I could hold a tablet again, _all this months_ , I’ve been giving him new weapons, _and he’s been…_ fuck. _Fuck_. I can’t believe I could be _so stupid!”_ she gripped her own hair with fumbling hands.

“Antonia.” said Yinsen, firmly, holding her shoulder and making her turn to look at him. “I didn’t tell you this so you could feel guilty about it. There was _nothing_ you could have done.” she shook her gently to mark his point. _“None_ of this was your fault.”

She tried very hard to keep her voice firm. “Then why did you even bother telling me?” she asked, only barely managing. 

“Because you’re _better_ than this.” he replied, leaning forward. “This might be the legacy your father left behind, but it doesn’t have to be _your_ legacy, Antonia. _You_ are going to do greater things. You have the potential to do much _good.”_ You the girl pressed her lips together, barely holding her breath. “But not before you find out _what_ you are going to do with your talent.”

“I am only a _teenager_ , all right?” snapped Toni, looking away from him. “I am not great, Yinsen, I’m not even sure I’m _good_. I’m just a stupid teenager that knows how to make things explode.” She held her breath, trying to keep from choking. “What the hell kind of talent _is_ that?! I can do nothing with it! My heart won’t even _work_ right! You and I both know it might stop working before the end of the year!”

“Well then,” murmured Yinsen, lifting one eyebrow at her. “this is a very important year for you, isn’t it?”

Toni took a deep breath, passing a hand over her face. She dropped her eyes and glanced at the man uneasily. “You really think I could do something good?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

He smiled at her. “I think,” he said, shaking her shoulder one more time, “you won’t let anyone stop you from doing it.”

Toni laughed, deciding not to feel too stupid when it came out shaky. She ran the palm of her hands over her eyes. “All right, then.” she shook her shoulders, straightening herself up. “Could you roll my chair back here, please? I should probably go back before Sammy asks for my guts on a bowl.”

Yinsen smiled at her and acquiesced, fetching the chair and helping her maneuver it into the right position.

Sammy was _almost_ merciful with her the next day. Almost.

.  
.  
.

“See?” proclaimed Toni, proudly, sitting up on her elbows and grinning cheekily at Sammy. _“I told you_ I could fix it.”

The woman rolled her eyes, amused, leaning on her knees to check out the girl’s work. “The question was never if you _could_ fix it,” she replied, shaking her head, “but if you _should_ fix it.”

“And why’s that?” asked the girl, raising one eyebrow. Her back was soaked because of the water that had pooled on the floor, and her elbows were covered with grease. She was pretty sure she’d gotten it in her hair.

It felt _good_ to do something useful for a change.

“Aside from the fact that you are _an intern_ and are still recovering from a car crash?” pointed out Sammy, subtle and gentle as always. “We were worried you might set something up to explode.”

“Hey! I resent that.” protested Toni, trying to keep the grin off her face. “I never blew anything up in here.”

“It’s only a matter of time.” prophesized the woman, smiling. “And don’t forget we had a deal, I convinced them to let you do it, and you begin using your cane.” she added, kneeling down to help the girl get up, giving her a stern look.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll use that stupid thing.” she sighed, accepting it when it was thrust in her hand. “I’m just going to go grab my tablet.” she added, limping along.

Sammy grabbed her shoulders and redirected her, despite Toni’s protests. _“You_ are going to take a hot bath.” she said, pulling her along in the right direction. “You’re filthy and wet. A couple more minutes and plankton will begin growing in your hair.”

“Aw, _c’mon!_ I’m all fired up!” protested the girl, unable to struggle due to her still limited maneuverability “I’ll fall asleep if I take a bath! _Saaaaaammy!”_

“Better yet.” proclaimed the woman, cheerfully. “I would tie you to your bed if I could. You don’t sleep enough.”

“Now she’s monitoring my sleeping habits.” muttered Toni, rolling her eyes. They were walking through the rec room, and heads turned to stare at her. Some people laughed, some new interns stared a bit wide-eyed, and some of the old patients who thought she was on drugs simply shook their heads reproachfully. 

Yinsen, who was sitting in one of the old armchairs, raised her eyes at her when she passed by. Toni stopped in her tracks, scanning his face automatically as she’d been doing lately. He had come down with a terrible cold just prior to that, and was still on IV for the dehydration. “Hey, Yinsen!” she greeted, smiling broadly. “Did you check out the new designs I sent you?”

“Antonia.” warned Sammy, resting a hand on her waist.

“Oh, gimme a break, doctor.” asked the girl, pouting at her and fluttering her eyelashes. “I’m going to take a bath in two minutes. Seriously. I swear. Pinky promise. _Please?”_

The woman rolled her eyes again, but the gesture was affectionate. “Yinsen, keep an eye on her for me?” she asked, giving Toni one last stern glare. “And use your cane!”

“Aye, aye, mom.” she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Yinsen raised an eyebrow at her, folding his paper. “I take it the staff finally let you ‘get out of your ass’?” he asked, taking in her maniac smile and wet clothes.

“Not exactly quantum physics,” sighed Toni, dramatically, leaning on her cane. “But yes. So, did you see them?”

“Hm, yes, I did.” agreed the man, giving her a smart grin. “They were very impressive, Antonia. You designed some very clever solutions. Although,” she knew that expression – he was trying not to laugh. “I wonder why would someone need a toaster in their flying chairs.”

“I thought you liked toast.” remarked Toni, smiling even more.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “But it’ll only work if you find a source of energy suitable for the project. You have something in mind?” he added, putting the newspaper aside and resting his hand on his lap.

“Kind off.” admitted Toni, walking around the armchair to lean against the wall. She still tired very easily – to be honest, right now, she was completely beat. Not that it had ever stopped her before. “I have some ideas. There’s the Arc Reactor that powers our factory, but it’s humongous, so I’d have to miniaturize it.” she pushed some loose bangs off her face. “But I can’t actually make any predictions before I have access to materials. I need _palladium_ to begin with.” she snorted. “I’m not going to get any in _this_ place.”

“Well, then,” replied Yinsen, evenly, looking up at her. “In that case, you should get out of here, shouldn’t you?”

Toni bit back her words mid-sentence, blinking at him. After a couple confused seconds, she finally shook her head and asked: “What do you mean?”

“You said you can’t continue your work while you are in here,” clarified the man, thoughtfully. “You are already pretty far on your rehabilitation, your heart has stabilized… September is not far away, it would be a good time to return to school.” he shrugged, giving her a knowing look. “I just don’t see any reason why you should stay internalized any longer.”

Damn Yinsen and his sneakiness and his uncanny ability to predict her. Toni managed to keep her eyes away from the IV at the other side of the armchair, but she couldn’t help the way she fidgeted uncomfortably. “Who says I have to go back to school?” she side-tracked, trying to sound nonchalant about it. 

“Who says you don’t?” replied Yinsen, unconvinced. Toni sighed.

“Listen, I’m trying to keep Obadiah off my trail.” she whispered, leaning in as far as she dared, what with the cane and her spine and her… stuff. “I’m playing grieving, disabled little girl still trying to get her head straight. If I ask out, and he thinks I’m recovered, he’ll be breathing _down my neck_ , and I can’t afford that.”

The man nodded along to her words, as if he was considering it, then pulled his glasses off. “If that is the reason why you are still here,” and his tone implied he wasn’t completely convinced, “then maybe you should just stop trying to get him arrested for the moment.”

“I can’t do that.” hissed Toni, honestly baffled he would suggest it. “Yinsen, if I _don’t_ put that man in jail, _no one_ will!” And, trying not to sound hurt, because she wasn’t, the girl added: “Besides, _you_ were the one who told me I needed to decide what to do with my life.”

“Yes!” agreed the man, impatient. “By what I meant relearning how to walk, going to college. Inventing cold fusion!” he shrugged and spread his hands, politely saying ‘some shit like that’. “I did not mean hacking into your company’s servers and beginning a crusade against a man who’s still your legal guardian!”

“I did learn how to walk!” protested Toni, indignant, waving her cane around dramatically. “See? I’m walking! Walking stick and all!”

Yinsen just stared at her, unimpressed. She sighed, displeased, and slumped against the wall again, crossing her arms. “And what _do_ you want me to do about Obadiah, Yinsen? Go to the cops?”

“I don’t want you to do _anything_ about him.” stressed the man, firmly. “You’re not equipped to deal with this sort of thing yet, Antonia.”

“People are dying!” hissed the brunette, suddenly feeling very angry at him.

“And if you get him arrested, _you_ will be left in the care of the government, who will take every single project you sent Stark Industries, and then probably leave millions of people in the street!” snapped back Yinsen, not losing his patience, but definitely shutting Toni up. 

She turned her head away, her face heating from anger. “Antonia.” he called, and the girl looked at him almost against her will. “Once you come of age, you’ll be in charge of Stark Industries, and _then_ you can solve this whole situation with the least collateral damage possible.” He gave her a stern, calm, unflinching glance. “But right now, and I know you hate to hear this, but you _can’t do anything.”_

Toni huffed, banging her head against the wall. It wasn’t exactly the first time they had this conversation, but it was surely the first time he was so final about it. “So,” she spread her hands, letting them fall again against her tights, “what? I go back to school, pretend I don’t know any of it? Is that what you want?”

 _“I want”_ answered Yinsen, clearly, unbothered by her sarcasm, “that you do what you want, and not what you think you _should_ do.”

God, sometimes she hated him. “Well.” She sat in the armchair’s arm, her legs complaining loudly at her they didn’t want to support her weight, anymore. “What if I don’t _know_ what I want?”

The man’s expression softened. “That’s good, too.” He said, calmly, picking up his newspaper again. “But you’re not going to find out staying around here.”

Toni rolled her eyes at him, blowing her fringe away from her face. She was just considering getting up and going to take that shower – it was beginning to look more inviting now that she’d spent some time standing up – when London, the twelve year old who’d fallen off her cheerleader pyramid, approached them in her clutches, holding a camera.

“Hey, Toni!” she greeted, cheerfully, stopping in front of them. London was always cheerful – she had dark skin, was never seen without a ponytail, and supported a minor hero worship towards Toni. “Hi, Mr. Yinsen.” she added, more politely, nodding at him.

“Hello, London.” said the man, smiling back.

“Hi, kiddo.” complimented the girl, eyeing her camera. “What are you carrying that thing for?”

London smiled widely, showing off her braces. “I’m getting discharged!” she proclaimed, proudly, bursting with excitement. “I’ll still have to do a lot of physiotherapy, and the doctors don’t think I’ll be able to cheer again…” a brief shadow passed over her eyes for a moment, but it was soon gone, “but at least I’m good enough to go home.”

Toni smiled, genuinely happy for her, and kept from tousling her hair to avoid ruining her ponytail. “When are you going?” she asked, instead, rolling her cane between her palms.

“At the end of the week,” informed the girl, giddy. “I’m taking pictures of everyone.” she explained, raising her camera. “To show to my friends back at school. Can we take a picture together? I’ll send you a copy.”

“Sure, London.” smiled Toni, grabbing her hot glue pistol from her belt. She spun it in her fingers and grabbed the handle swiftly, pointing it upwards and blowing at the tip. London laughed – she was crazy about Bond movies. “C’mon, Yinsen, strike a pose.” said Toni, nudging him and trying, unsuccessfully, to keep a straight face.

London asked a doctor to take the picture and sat on the chair’s arm, trying to look scary. Yinsen, not missing a beat, leaned forward on his elbows and tried to perfect an “Evil Mastermind” look. He wasn’t much more successful than the girls.

Two days later, London emailed the photo back, along with a pic of herself in her “Welcome Back” party. Two weeks later, Yinsen got sick again.

And this time he didn’t get better.

.  
.  
.

“Toni. Toni. Toni, wake up.”

She had fallen asleep in the middle of tinkering with her repulsor technology, and for a wild moment the girl thought it was her mother coming to collect her from another late night at the lab. Okay, so usually the maid was actually the one who did that, once they had been around long enough to know they were _expected_ to wake her up instead of letting her drool in her workbench.

But they usually called her “Miss Stark” or “Antonia”. Her mother had been the first person to start calling her Toni, mostly in a passive-aggressive attempt at pissing off Howard even more, who had insisted “Anthony” was a boy’s name, but “Antonia” sounded like a drag-queen’s. He’d wanted to name her “Natasha”, instead. Maria had done whatever the lady’s equivalent was to laughing in his face and going “no”.

Good thing Samantha didn’t look like Maria, else Toni might’ve done something embarrassing. “Sammy?” she mumbled, blinking. Rubbing her eyes, she groaned and yawned. “What the heck, isn’t it the middle of the…”

And then she remembered. “Fuck.” shaking her head to try and clear it, she sat up, staring at Sammy. “Is Yinsen…?”

She knew the answer just going by the woman’s face. Samantha shook her head, gravely. “The hospital’s just called.” she informed, quietly. “They don’t think he’s going to get through the night.”

“But he’s still…?” she asked, urgently, trying to untangle the sheets from her legs. 

“He’s still conscious.” replied Sammy, soothingly. Toni gulped.

“I gotta go see him.” she told the woman, fumbling to get up from bed, already reaching for her shoes. She expected Samantha to protest, but she seemed to have been expecting it, and was already grabbing her coat.

“I’ll drive you.” she informed, handing it to her.

Toni sat in the passenger’s sit, wondering all the time when she was going to wake up. Yinsen couldn’t be dying. He wasn’t _that_ old. Her mother and father had already died. Strangers had died in that car accident, she had tried not to search them, but she had. It didn’t make sense. Was she exhaling some sort of gas? Was _everyone_ around her dying?

“We’re here.” announced Sammy, and Toni got out of the car before she could help. 

The woman grabbed her by the elbow and guided her through the corridors. She saw a doctor leaving the room and Samantha stopped to talk to her, but Toni was too busy staring at the bed. Yinsen was lying unmoving, looking even paler against the sheets, surrounded by beeping machines. The girl pushed past Samantha, ignoring the doctor, and approached the bed almost fearfully.

“Yinsen?” she called, silently, wondering if he was asleep. His chest was rising and falling really fast.

The man cracked an eye open and smiled when he saw her. Toni sat down on the visitor’s chair, afraid her knees were going to go out from under her. “Hello, Antonia.” he greeted, in a cracked voice.

Toni gulped. “Hey.” she replied, unsure what to do with her hands. Should she hold his? Would that be too weird? “How are you doing, old man?” she asked, lamely, trying not to look at his heart monitor. 

“Not very good.” answered Yinsen, lowly, out of breath. “Paying a visit to a dying man’s bed side, Antonia? That’s kind of you.”

The girl gulped again, and held his hand almost without meaning to, leaning forward. “What are you talking about?” she challenged, trying to sound nonchalant. “C’mon, you are gonna get better. I did, and I was far worse than you. C’mon,” she insisted, quietly. “I made a flying chair for you, you were going to test it for me. That was the plan, remember? We gotta stick to it.”

Yinsen shook his head, just barely, apparently having difficulty keeping his eyes open. “This was always the plan, Antonia.”

“You gotta get out of here to meet your family, right?” interrupted the girl, urgently, having none of that. “You told me that, they are waiting for you, you can’t just…”

“My family is dead.” replied Yinsen, softly, shaking his head at her. Toni’s heart plummeted inside her chest and she shut up abruptly. “You are a smart girl, Antonia. You knew that already.” he smiled weakly at her, soothing. “I’m going to see them now.”

She held her breath, squeezing his hand harder. Well, of course she’d known that. They never visited, never called, never wrote. Yinsen didn’t even refer to them in the present tense on the few times he actually spoke of them. Of course she’d _known_ they were dead. 

But _why_ did that mean he had to die, too? Her family had died too – and wasn’t she still alive?

“I’m sorry,” whispered the man, squeezing her hand back feebly. “I want this.” he was breathing really hard now. “I want this – I’m sorry” he repeated, even more lowly. Toni took a deep breath and shook her head.

“Don’t be. ‘s okay,” she reassured him, keeping her voice steady. “Thank you.” She added, in a squeezed voice, afraid of letting the silence stretch. “For believing in me.”

Yinsen let out a puff of breath that might’ve been a laugh. “You’ll do great things, Antonia.” he said, between labored breaths.

“Yeah.” she agreed, cleaning her throat. “You bet.”

“Don’t waste it.” he added, more forcefully, making a brief pained face. “Don’t waste your life.”

The girl opened her mouth to answer, but just then he sucked in a sharp breath and the monitors stopped beeping. Someone grabbed her and hauled her away as if expecting resistance. She got all but shoved into Samantha, who held her much more gently, pulling her away from the door. Toni stared, half not listening, half ignoring the woman, as the doctors rushed around, giving instructions and calling out numbers.

At last, the doctor she’d seen earlier slowly shook her head and stepped away from Yinsen, flicking off the heart monitor. Softly, the woman called out time of death.

Toni bit her lip as hard as she could and curled her hands into fists. “Let’s go back.” she told Sammy, walking past her towards the exit. 

Sammy seemed to think the girl deserved a time off – she didn’t bother her for the next day, and no one else came to get her off the bedroom. Toni spent the entire time working in her projects, keeping away from one in particular as she run calculations and drew schematics. It was five a.m. of the next day when she finally fell asleep.

She was up again an hour later, unsure of what had woken her up, and it wasn’t until she tried to rub her eyes she realized she’d been crying in her sleep.

.  
.  
.

Toni’s plan, originally, had been to leave rehab in time to catch the beginning of class, but Obadiah was less than cooperative. There was a load of paperwork to fill, press to deal with, and providences to be taken, he’d said. He had to prepare a house for her and ready her documents for enrolling in a new school. He needed to hire staff to make sure she would be okay on her own.

Toni had rolled her eyes throughout the entire speech.

New York had seemed like a good place to find out what she wanted to do with her life. She liked the city, they already owned a house more-or-less livable she could use, and it would be convenient for Happy, who had family in there. There was even an elite school who agreed to take her, even after she’d missed more than a year of classes, if she could pass the entrance exams. That had been the lesser of her problems.

Ms. Potts, bless the woman, had moved Toni’s workshop to the house’s subterranean garage, along with all her personal possessions from the L.A. mansion and a few selected items that had belonged to her parents. She wondered if Happy, who was the only person who actually _knew_ her a bit, had helped packing those. 

On the day she was finally discharged, Sammy had given her the picture London had taken of her and Obadiah. She had actually gotten it framed last-second. Toni had hidden it in the depths of her baggage, strangely protective of it. She didn’t want Obadiah to know about Yinsen.

“There you go, Toni.” he said, cheerfully when they finally arrived at the house. The girl had been here many times, already, and it didn’t feel particularly different. Except, maybe, for a new guestroom. “You want any help settling?”

“Happy can help me. You should go back.” replied the brunette, outstretching her hand for the keys. The man fidgeted and didn’t give them to her.

“Now, Toni,” he said, trying to sound stern. “You’ve had a long stay at the hospital, and we’ve just gotten out of a flight. I think it’s best if I stay with you for a while until you get your feet under you.”

“And _I_ think,” interrupted the girl, coldly, “that you should keep your part of the deal. It’s not that complicated.” she gestured towards the trunk, and Happy smartly got the message, opening it to begin unloading her bags. “I want to finish High School and go to college without you, the press, and by consequence _half the world_ ogling me. So you leave me alone, and I walk in line, keep quiet, and if asked, smile and tell everyone how _lucky_ I am to have you by my side.”

She trust her hand at him again, forcefully, expectantly. “So give me my keys, and we can both just go on with our lives.” she finished, trying not to show how tired she felt. As soon as that murderer was gone, she was going to lie down and never get up again.

Obadiah stared at her with a sour expression for a second, before he could conceal it. “Fine, then.” he agreed, as if he was performing a grand gesture of goodness by handing her the keys. “I expect you to keep your part of the deal as well.” he added, giving her a long look.

“I will.” she replied, pushing her bag strap over her shoulder. “Happy, just leave my things here, I’ll ask someone to get them inside. Obadiah probably needs a driver.” she added, giving him a last glance before entering the house.

She made a beeline for her bedroom and flopped down on the fresh sheets, surrounded by unopened boxes. Happy, and a few more people from her old house staff would be working here, but they left her alone for now. She stared up at the ceiling, measuring the wanting to get a coffee against the wanting to stay in bed. It had been a while since she’d been completely in charge of her own routine, and, although it felt good, it was also strangely disorienting. Rolling, she kicked off her boots and pulled her bag up from the floor, feeling around until she found Yinsen’s photograph. She put it by the nightstand.

She was enrolled in a new school, and she had a fair amount of liberty and allowance to tinker with her new projects – maybe finally finish the chair, now that she could work on the Arc Reactor technology. She didn’t plan on completely dropping the terrorists problem, though. There was plenty she could do from behind the scenes before Obadiah even knew what’d hit him. Maybe she should pay a visit to her parent’s grave, or send a fruits basket to Ms. Potts. 

But if she really thought about it, she didn’t actually felt any sense of purpose. It felt as if she was floating, completely disconnected from the world. Maybe that had been what Yinsen had meant about figuring out what she wanted to do with her life. Maybe she just really needed coffee.

She doubted school would help. But it had been ages since she’d talked to someone her age. Okay, so people her age weren’t usually the brightest peas in the pod. But it would surely be better than her father’s business partners. Maybe she’d even meet someone interesting.

Okay, so, what were the chances? But. Maybe. Who knew?

.  
.  
.

Toni had, however, forgotten to account for one important variable.

The first period teacher insisted Toni did the introduction routine to her new class, which had made the girl want to bang her head against the wall. She waited on the corridor, tapping the wall absently as she tended to do when she was bored. The uniform wasn’t much to her liking, but then again, her father hadn’t exactly encouraged her clothing tastes before. She was so used to it she had picked up heels this morning. Motherfucking _heels_. She hated the damn things.

She really should go shopping. Buy some leather jackets. Some boots. Some belts, maybe? And a lot more t-shirts. Now that there was no one to bitch her about it, she might as well wear what she felt like. Hey, could she get a piercing, or would she need authorization from Obadiah to do that? Eh, she could probably work around it…

The door to the classroom opened, distracting her. “Miss Stark, can you please come in?” called her teacher, smiling at her. Toni picked her bag from the floor and hooked it around one shoulder, stepping in.

There was an obvious reaction when she entered. Most of the boys perked up, some of them elbowing each other. The girls whispered between themselves excitedly. Toni wondered again why she had bothered with make-up and brushing her hair – she didn’t care to cause those kind of first impressions, right? – but it seemed to be simply ingrained on her.

She had completely forgotten her public persona had a life of its own.

“Antonia, do you want to introduce yourself to your colleagues?” asked the teacher, nicely, closing the door behind her.

“Just ‘Toni’ is fine, Ms. Pitera” she told her, opening her winning smile and winking at a girl on the front row who promptly begun giggling. “So, in case anyone is wondering, and I’m sure you are,” she flicked her hair away from her face, “no, I don’t have a boyfriend and no, I didn’t transfer because I just got out of rehab.” She smiled again, charming. “And as a matter of fact, yes, I’m totally cool with taking photos if you ask me nicely.” she added, giving an ironic look at the boy who was discreetly trying to take a picture with his cellphone.

“Mr. Maxwell!” chastised the woman, blushing hard with anger. Toni smiled and sat down on an empty seat. 

That had gone well. Except, not really.

Things did not improve by lunch. She’d sat at a table out of the way, purposefully trying to be alone so she could get a feel of the school’s dynamics – who sat with whom, which table was the one that talked obnoxiously loudly and which table customarily housed the math club. She had no such a chance: half the class seemed to have followed her like a bunch of ducklings, pilling themselves around her seat.

She wanted them to scatter – instead she smiled, answered questions and made hilarious jokes. The girl was still trying to find an excuse to leave when a boy leaned in across the table, getting in her personal space, and she tensed, feeling an unexplained urge to fight or flee.

“Hey, you know what I was just thinking?” he said, friendly, opening a flirty smile. “Stark. Isn’t that the name of that super rich guy who invented the holographic screen technology?”

Toni’s heart fell like a rock. _No_ , she thought, bitterly, clenching her fists under the table. _It’s the name of that super dead guy who killed his wife, a driver with a kid on the backseat, two pedestrians and their dog._

The boy was still waiting for her answer, as was the rest of the table. _Fuck_. She had expected it would take a little longer for them to find out she was the filthy rich and orphaned daughter of the greatest, the biggest asshole in earth, Howard Stark. She didn’t want questions about the accident, and she _specially_ didn’t want to talk about her father.

Was there any way she could…

“Hey guys!” called out a girl’s voice from behind the circle of people, suddenly disrupting the scene. “Can you excuse me for a second? I need to talk to Toni.”

Her classmates looked away from her, shuffling to make space, and Toni raised her eyebrows, wondering who had so conveniently interrupted the conversation. A girl walked up to the table, holding a bunch of art supplies on one arm and smiling at her. “Hi, Toni.” she greeted, politely, pushing one lock of hair away from her face.

Toni didn’t answer. She was busy trying to not have a heart attack. 

It wasn’t even that she was gorgeous, except – yeah, no, who was she even lying to, it totally was. Toni could safely say she had never met anyone so beautiful her entire life. The girl had clear, light blue eyes: the only way she could describe them, sappy as it sounded, was azure. Her blond hair, pulled back in a half-ponytail, curled at the edges, spilling over her shoulders full and smooth. Her lips were beyond her literary capacity – Toni was having a hard time not staring.

Her eyebrows were elegant and slightly darker than her hair. She had a strong face, one that could as easily be threatening as it could be friendly. She was taller than almost everyone else, even on sneakers. Even her _body_ was goddamned perfect, oh my God, how could this not be against the _law?_

And to top it all up, she was smiling at Toni. Which was such a low blow. The last time her brain had turned to such goo had been when she’d met Anne Hathaway, and not even then her knees had melted so fast. This was shameful, just shameful.

Oh, wait, the girl was probably waiting for an answer. “Hi,” she replied, neutrally. “Have we met?” she added, opening a flirty smile, the first serious one of the day.

The blonde smiled back, unfazed, and shook her head. “No, we weren’t introduced. My name’s Stephanie Rogers.” she changed the art supplies from one arm to another. “The teacher asked me to walk you to the secretary – you have to get some papers.”

She felt a small pang of disappointment that was quickly washed away by relief – was Stephanie giving her an excuse to get the hell out of here without answering questions about Howard? 

Today really was her lucky day. “Sounds neat.” she replied, picking her bag up from the floor. “Let’s go, then.”

There was a loud chorus of “aw”s and “c’mon”s, which Toni soothed quickly, even as her feet begun to carry her out of the cafeteria. She turned the corner only a little slower than a fugitive running from the police and felt like doing flip flops down the corridor. Which would be a bad idea in so many levels she couldn’t even number them. “So, anyway,” she turned back at Stephanie, who was acting remarkably blasé at the whole thing. “Why would you get stuck with the job of walking me around?”

The blonde blushed at this, laughing and looking suddenly very embarrassed. _“Actually…”_ she replied, stretching the word as long as she could. “I, ahm. I kinda lied about that?” she admitted, shyly, tinkering with her art supplies.

“You lied to get me out of there?” asked Toni, feeling ridiculously giddy about it. She smiled more broadly. “Why?”

“Well, not _specifically_ to get you out of there.” disagreed Stephanie, very dignified, as if it had been a serious accusation. “The teacher did ask me to walk you – but to the infirmary.”

Toni stared at her. “To the infirma… oh, _right.”_ she shook her head, cursing mentally. “Right. My pills. Shit. Completely forgot about the little bastards.” she buffed, annoyed with the school’s stupid medication policy. “But why did you lie about it?”

Stephanie shrugged, the red once again leaving her face. It was a pity. “I figured you wouldn’t want everyone asking why you had to go to the infirmary.” she answered, simply, as if it was just common sense.

Toni blinked at her. No. She wouldn’t have wanted it at all. “Doesn’t really explain why you got stuck with me, though.” she pointed out, playfully.

That made the blonde let out a small puff of laughter. “I had to go to the infirmary, anyway.” she explained, lowering her voice and adding in a more secretive tone: “I know how you feel – I hate to take them too.”

Toni raised her eyebrows skeptically. She had noticed Stephanie was walking slowly so she could keep up easier, although the brunette had no idea how the girl even knew walking fast tired her. But Stephanie herself seemed to be the epitome of human health. She doubted she’d ever caught a cold before in her life. “What do _you_ need to take meds for?” she asked, finally, incapable of holding her tongue.

Stephanie laughed, as if she was thoroughly used to that question and hummed under her breath thoughtfully. “Hummm…” she mused, tapping her chin as she considered it. It was _adorable_. “Asthma, a heart condition, vitamins, calcium, amongst other things.” she smiled impishly at Toni as if that was impressive – to be fair, her eyebrows _had_ been going up higher and higher as the taller girl talked.

“Again: why do you need to take all these for?” she insisted, giving her an ironic once-over. Stephanie rolled her eyes.

“I was very sickly when I was younger.” replied the girl, pressing the elevator button. “Scrawny, too, wouldn’t gain weight. I just hit my growth spurt last month – I was this size before.” and she put her hand just above Toni’s shoulder.

She snorted. “No way.”

“Way.” insisted Stephanie, stubbornly, grabbing her cellphone. She surfed through it and handed it to Toni. “See? That was me just last year.”

Toni examined the picture. It showed a close up of two girls sitting together at someone’s front steps, probably part of a bigger shot. The girl on the right had brown hair and eyes, and looked older. The one on the right was tiny, with thin blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Was this photoshoped?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What? No.” Stephanie stared at her as if the notion was absurd, and then begun laughing, leaning against the elevator wall. “It isn’t photoshoped!” she chuckled, as if that had been such crazy talk it was hilarious.

Toni felt the corners of her lips quirk up. “This so photoshoped, Rogers.” she waved it at her nose. _“No way_ you could’ve gained that much body mass.”

“Why would I even photoshop a picture of myself?” laughed the blonde, rolling her eyes. “I swear. Ask Jean.”

The girl gave her back her phone, raising one eyebrow. “Who’s Jean?” she asked, puzzled.

Stephanie smiled. “It’s the other girl in the picture. She’s my sister.” she explained, directing her to the right when they got out of the elevator. “She’s not actually related to me, but we were raised together, so we are as good as sisters. Ah, this is the infirmary.”

They knocked on the door, and the nurse asked them to wait just a couple of minutes while she helped a sick kid to his car. Stephanie sat down, seeming completely at ease, and pointed the seat next to her. Toni sat down too, projecting some safety tests in her mind, but the other girl interrupted her halfway through. “Hey, Toni,” she asked, friendly, crossing her ankles. “Can I ask you something?”

A part of her immediately shut down, growing defensive and irritated, but she didn’t let it show. “Shoot it.” she told her, relaxed, shrugging, but ready to violently shut her down should any questions about her medication arrive.

“How do you spell your name?”

The question was so completely out of nowhere, Toni felt as if someone had knocked her down on her butt. “Why do you even want to know?” she asked, unable to hold back a small snort of laughter.

“No reason.” shrugged Stephanie, absolutely unbothered by the whole thing, as if she went around picking up strangers from socially awkward situations and asking them random questions every day. “Does it have an ‘H’?”

“No.” laughed Toni, shaking her head amusedly. “It doesn’t have an ‘H’. And it’s ‘Toni’ with an ‘I’.” 

“Ah, okay.” she smiled, dropping her eyes again to text on her phone. God, she had beautiful eyelashes. "I just thought it was pretty, that’s all.”

Toni was shaking her head, rolling her eyes at the randomness of the whole situation, when Stephanie spoke up again. She didn’t raise her eyes from her cellphone screen, and didn’t influx anything in her voice but the most casual vacancy, but Toni felt, unmistakably, a frightening edge of steel to her words. “You know, if Brad ever makes any stupid questions again,” she told her, offering no other details, “you can always just punch him in the face.”

“Brad?” repeated Toni, completely baffled.

“That guy who was talking to you in the cafeteria.” explained Stephanie, remarkably softer, still not looking up.

“You heard what he was saying?” frowned the brunette, still thoroughly confused. Granted, it _had_ been a stupid question, but there was no way anyone could’ve guessed it. He hadn’t been disrespectful or sexist or gross. He’d just touched the wrong subject.

“No.” replied the girl, simply, as it that explained everything.

And then it finally “clicked” in Toni’s mind. Stephanie had only seen it, not heard it. She had seen Brad leaning in on her personal space, looking flirty, and had interrupted the conversation at exact the right time.

She had thought Brad was making unwanted advances on her?

She had… realized Toni was uncomfortable? 

And just like that, with no warning at all, after a year and a half of suffocating, Toni was finally able to breathe again.

.  
.  
.

Toni wasn’t actually _supposed_ to be walking around by herself. It was, after all, why she had a personal driver and several cars. But she was still working on getting Obadiah arrested, and she preferred not to involve Happy in this. Besides, she hadn’t spent all this time relearning how to walk simply to spend the rest of her life being carried to places.

Thus, she was walking. Maybe she just had a talent for making stupid decisions. The street was desert at the moment, because she’d lost track of time, and the stores were already closed. It was getting dark very fast. She really should’ve called Happy. Fuck.

She was just about to do exactly that, trying to keep her pace brisk as she searched for her cell on her bag, when she heard someone screaming for help.

Toni froze. She immediately thought of a hundred reasons why answering the call was a terrible idea. She was a fifteen year old girl with a heart condition, no muscles at all, no fighting skills, no weapon, alone in a darkening street with no one around to hear her scream. It was highly possible that there was no victim at all, and it was just a ploy to lure her in. She really should just scatter and call the police.

The scream reverberated again, sounding suspiciously like a child. Toni cursed, dialed the police’s number, and run towards it anyway. She would have sworn she didn’t have a death wish. Apparently, she had. This was such a stupid idea.

She didn’t call out, and did as little noise as possible as she turned left on an alley between two stores. She stepped over a turned trash can, and her vision got blurry, making black dots explode behind her eyelids. Toni staggered backwards, feeling for the wall, but there was nothing to lean into. It had disappeared.

Everything had disappeared.

Something had happened to her surroundings – forms were bending wickedly, light bounced off at the wrong angles and sound was muted to a point where it made her head hurt, as if someone was digging drills in her eardrums. “What the…?” gasped the girl, her heart exploding in her chest as fear-induced adrenaline shot through her veins.

Suddenly, as if they had sprouted from the ground, three humanoid forms appeared nearby, dragging their swollen limbs towards her. Toni’s blood run cold in her veins. Scrambling to get up, she tried to run the other way even as her feet wouldn’t find the ground – she had spent all this time learning how to walk again! – but one of the things grabbed her by the ankle.

Toni yelled at the top of her lungs as it yanked on her leg violently, making her come crashing down. Pain irradiated from her lower back even as she kicked at her attacker, screaming for help and cursing in the same breath. The thing begun crawling up her body as the other two caught up, trying to immobilize her – she trashed, landing a blow on the side of its head, but it only made her knuckles hurt. “GET _OFF_ ME, YOU SPAWN FROM HELL!” she shrieked, right as it caught her elbow and knocked her on her back. 

Just as the other two things were finally reaching her, something flew by over her head, so fast Toni couldn’t make it, and neatly chopped the monster’s head off. Toni kicked its chest as hard as she could, getting the body away from her and crawled backwards until she was safely away. “What the _fuck?”_ she panted, angrily, holding her chest. 

“That was a close call.” mused a voice from behind her, calm, composed, a British accent coloring the words. Toni raised her head, trying to find out who was speaking, but someone put a hand on her shoulder before she could.

“Hey, Toni.” greeted an extremely familiar voice. She whipped around, startled, only to find herself face-to-face with Stephanie, her blue eyes unmistakable, even beneath… was that a mask?

“Why the fuck are you wearing a mask?” she asked, stupidly, making Steph burst into a laugh.

“It’s a long story.” she replied, helping the girl sit up and outstretching her arm. As if on cue, a circular shield came whooshing by – the same one that had decapitated the thing – and slipped on her arm as if it was satellite guided. The blonde didn’t even flinch under the strength of the hit. “Can you hold on to that?” she asked, winking at her and getting up.

“Is that a _dress?”_ insisted Toni, even as Stephanie walked away to meet another girl, possibly the one who’d first talked. So it was a stupid question, but, really – _what_ was up with that dress, anyway?

Stephanie was wearing a blue leotard with a low back and a white star in the chest, white lace at the stripes and a red ribbon tied around her waist. The stripped skirt was red-and-white, knee length with a high-waist. She was wearing red boots and red leather gloves on top of white cloth ones that went to her elbows. Her ponytail bobbed as she moved, her face covered by a helmet-like mask.

And around her neck, hanging on a choker, was a round blue gem the exact same tone of Stephanie’s eyes. “What is even _happening?”_ she murmured, feeling dizzy. 

“They are Magical Girls.” replied a masculine voice. Toni jumped, looking around her feet. A small black panther was looking up at her. It had a funny eye patch pattern in its fur. “They hunt Witches such as the one who attacked you.”

“It seems our secret is out, Peggy.” smiled Steph, looking at the girl over her shoulder. “Good thing we can trust Toni.”

And with that, she thrust her shield with all her might at the remaining humanoid forms. Peggy laughed, pulling out a shotgun out of thin air, and fired at them on her wake. Toni was staring, holding her breath, as they burst into flames and slowly disappeared, along with the strange reality-wrapping place. 

Had Stephanie just saved her life?

“That,” she breathed out, feeling blood pumping in her ears and a maniac smile coloring her features. “Was _the_ most awesome thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”

Steph looked back at her, looking surprised and pleased and embarrassed, the dying flames reflecting in her eyes and face. It was the most beautiful thing Toni had ever seen in her entire life. Her heart was doing somersaults in her chest. Her legs and arms were scratched as if she had gotten out of a fight with a demoniac cat. Adrenaline was making her head light and her pupils widely dilated, even as her breath came in short hiccups. 

She hadn’t felt so fucking alive in _forever._

“Where do I sign up?” she asked, frenzied, beaming up at them as Stephanie helped her to her feet. The girl just smiled at her.

.  
.  
.

“OUCH!” exclaimed Stephanie, painfully, interrupting Toni’s monologue about what a bunch of old pigheaded fuckers composed Stark Industries’ council. “Toni! Watch out for that needle, you pinched me.” she complained, giving her a look through the mirror.

“I wouldn’t have if you weren’t moving around so much!” replied the girl, her voice muffled by the pin cushion between her teeth. She took it out, setting it on the floor and shook her fringe out of the way again. “Would you keep your booty in one place?” she demanded, grabbing Steph by the waist of her skirt and dragging her back to where she’d been.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, pushing her hair out of the way again. “It’s just… this… this kind of itches.” she admitted, embarrassedly, making a face through the mirror.

“It itches because it’s not ready.” explained Toni, calmly going back to sewing the back of the shirt. “I’m still going to put that fabric through a chemical process. It’ll get more breathable. But I need to take your measurements first.”

“Does it have to be sewed on me?” asked the girl, looking at her over her shoulder. Toni hummed and shifted, rubbing her knees.

“It has, if I want it to fit right.” she answered, frowning at her hand work. Gosh, she hated sewing. On the bright side, this position gave her a spectacular view of Steph’s ass, so not all was lost in the world. “I couldn’t base it off your old outfit like I did with Peggy’s because I had to completely redesign yours. An _open back_ , Cap? Really?” she added, giving her an ironic look.

Stephanie blushed. “Well, it isn’t like the fabric would’ve protected me anyway, so what difference did it make?” she justified, embarrassed. “But you know, I kinda like your design better.”

Toni smiled cockily, undoing a messy stitch. “Is that so?” she hummed examining it on the mirror. She had substituted her blue leotard for a sleeveless shirt with a higher collar that buttoned up on the back. And layered with protective fabric. “Okay, move your arms so I can check the fitting.”

“Yes, it is so” agreed Stephanie, smiling at her as she flexed her arms. That particular smile always made Toni feel as if she was cuddling a kitty. “It feels comfortable.”

“I’m awesome.” sighed the brunette, getting to her feet and examining her work. “This’ll only take a couple more minutes. When’s Peggy coming back, anyway? I want ice cream!”

Steph laughed, rolling her eyes at her. “She’s on her way, Toni, don’t be a baby.” she laughed again when her friend stuck out her tongue and let her arms drop. “Hey, Toni?”

“Hmmm?” murmured the girl, distractedly, looking for the pearl buttons she’d gotten as decoration.

“Can I ask you something?” said Stephanie, hesitantly, walking up to Peggy’s bed where Toni had dropped her materials and sitting next to her. The girl raised her eyes, her hands still going through the mess.

“Shoot it, Cap.” she replied, her lips quirking a bit upwards, curiously.

Her friend seemed a bit uncomfortable – she slid backwards on the bed, resting her back against the wall and biting her lips nervously. “Do you…” she stopped, taking a breath and looking her in the eyes. “Are you… are you making excuses to leave Peggy and me alone, or… or is it my imagination?”

Taken by surprise, Toni straightened herself, pulling her glasses off (she needed them for tired vision). “Well, I…” she stammered, deeply uncomfortable. “I just wouldn’t want to be the third wheel, you know?”

Steph wriggled, coming closer to her again. “But why do you think you are the third wheel?” she insisted, blue eyes burning and blinding. “I mean, Toni…” her fingers were twitching, and the girl found easier to focus on them. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped us. Every time I needed you, you were there for me. You make all of these amazing things for us, and you never asked for nothing in return.” she finally reached out and held her hands and Toni felt her knees turning into play-doh. “Why would you think you’re the third wheel?”

“I… I don’t.” chocked out he girl, trying desperately not to look at their hands, but incapable of looking at her eyes. “I don’t, it’s just, you and her are dating, so it’s not like…”

“What?” interrupted Steph, frowning and sounding confused. “What do you… Toni.” she got up, making Toni step back, not letting go of her hands. “Peggy and I aren’t dating.”

Toni had, actually, already had been hit by a car once in her life. She knew what it felt like. But this? A car crash didn’t even _compare_ to this. “You aren’t?” she replied, feeling her face heat up against her will.

Stephanie shook her head slowly, looking at Toni in a way that made her insides melt into goo. “No. We aren’t.” the girl frowned, puzzled. “Why would you think that?”

“Why would I…” her voice squeaked at the end, and she swallowed, trying to make it sound smoother. “You act like a couple!” she let out, awkwardly. “You… hold hands and… and put the table together… and, like… _gaze_ at each other… you fight _demons_ together…”

“Witches.” corrected Steph, automatically.

“I mean, you… you act like a couple.” she finished, out of breath even after just a short speech. “So I just thought…” she trailed off, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Why _aren’t_ you dating?” she asked, knowing she was making a very poor case for herself, but incapable of shutting up. 

“Ahm… _well…”_ Stephanie finally let go of her hand, pushing her hair behind her ear. She was flustered, and avoiding eye contacting, which was remarkably odd for her. “I thought you had picked up on it already, Toni.”

Oh, boy. Oh, fuck. “Picked up on what?” she asked, stupidly.

Stephanie fidgeted, stepping a bit to the side, then back towards her, her face now redder than Toni had ever seen it. “Picked up that… Peggy is not… the _only_ girl that I like right now.”

 _She likes me_ , thought Toni, her body going completely rebellious on her. _Fuck. Fuckidy fuck. Oh my God, she likes me. Stephanie likes me. Oh shit. Shit. SHIT. She likes me?!_ She pulled in a sharp breath, feeling heat pooling in her bones. “Oh.” she managed to let out, and even that came out shaky and breathless.

Stephanie chuckled. Toni did, too, out of nervousness than if nothing else. “So you… like… both of us?” she managed, trying to put some sense into the searing ball of excruciating happiness bouncing around in her chest. “And we… both… like you.” she proceeded, pointing at her in a haze.

“Yes.” agreed Steph, taking her hand again and squeezing it. She bit her lips, dropping her eyes. “I… it’s just… you’re my best friend, Toni.” she whispered, looking back at her. “But Peggy is…” the words died off in the middle of sentence, and she shook her head. “I don’t want to _choose_ any of you because I don’t want to _lose_ any of you, and I just…”

“It’s okay.” interrupted Toni, hastily, her voice coming out too shrill. She coughed and tried again. “It’s okay, Cap. Really. It’s grand.” she smiled at her, honest, trying to make it soothing. “I mean, we have a Witch’s butt to kick, but afterward we could… fuck me if I know, go bowling or some shit, I mean, the three of us.” she squeezed her hand back. “We can figure it out. Really. It’s cool.”

Stephanie hesitated, but then slowly smiled back, and Toni was positively sure she had never felt so happy before in her entire life. “Bowling sounds great, Toni.” she whispered, cheerfully.

And if she were to die right now, it would so have been worth it.

.  
.  
.

Toni liked Peggy. She really did. 

Peggy was the most badass girl she’d ever met, and yes, that included Stephanie. She went completely psychotic with a gun in her hands, so much Toni wouldn’t be surprised if she began caressing them and giving them inappropriate and strangely sugary nicknames. She was 50% finesse, 50% violence and 100% red lipstick. She ate coconut cake with damask jam at mid-night as if she’d never seen food before in her life, and wore sexy lingerie because she felt like it, that’s why.

Toni totally got why Stephanie liked her – even if she had tried to, she could never have hated Peggy. 

She hadn’t wanted for her to die. 

Peggy had finally stopped bleeding, and the red was drying in Toni’s hand, getting under her fingernails, staining her clothing. The girl’s Soul Gem had been smashed to pieces and her body armor perforated like wet paper. Her face was covered with ash and her fingertips were scratched raw. Toni was so cold she couldn’t even cry – all that came out were dry hiccups.

Stephanie was kneeling at the other side of the body, the light throwing her face into shadow. She raised a hand and touched Peggy’s face, cradling her cheek gently, before leaning forward and kissing her on the lips very lightly. Then she firmed a foot in the ground and got up. “I have to go.”

“Go… go, wait, what, what do you mean, _go?”_ stuttered Toni, reaching out and grabbing her pulse. “You can’t mean you still plan to fight that thing off _by yourself!”_ she demanded, yanking her pulse closer to make her sit down again.

“Toni.” chastised Stephanie, evenly, given her a stern look. “Just listen to me…”

“No, _you_ listen to me!” interrupted the girl, feeling anger overpowering the grief. “Peggy was the veteran, and you couldn’t do it together – you can’t do this by yourself! You’ll only get killed! We have to back up and get help!”

“There _is_ no help coming, Toni!” replied her friend, raising her voice. “No other Magical Girl will fight, they are too scared!”

“But _Xavier…”_ insisted the girl, going through a hundred possibilities in her head.

“…has made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with it.” finished Steph, her tone final and her eyes unflinching. “I wouldn’t do it if there was any other way, Toni.”

“There _has_ to be one!” she protested, squeezing even tighter. “Don’t play this stupid superhero act, Steph, you can’t do this to me!”

That gave the girl pause. She stopped, her eyes darkening, and let out a breath. “I’m doing this _for_ you, Toni.” she said, softly, almost like a love confession. Toni didn’t answer. “You remember when I saved you?” she asked, her eyes that mesmerizing shade of blue in the middle of ash and debris. “Even though you were alone and there was nothing you could do, when that Witch faked calling for help, you still answered it, didn’t you?”

“What’s your point?” replied Toni, gulping forcefully, desperate to keep her from going.

“My point is that I became a Magical Girl to help people.” answered Stephanie, her voice very quiet against the eerie laughing of the Walpurgis. “I was never special, Toni. I couldn’t do anything to help anyone. But when I saved you?” her voice faltered, tears rising to her eyes. Toni wanted badly to answer, to tell her what a blind, infuriating idiot she was, but she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt her. “Don’t you know how proud I felt? How _happy_ that because I contracted, because I made this choice, I was able to save you?”

She gulped, leaning even further towards her and squeezing her fingers back. “You don’t need to be a Magical Girl to be brilliant, Toni. You already _are_ so amazing. You _already have_ the means and the power to save people.” she shook her head. “I won’t let you die. I won’t let anyone I love die.”

Toni opened her mouth to argue with her, to tell her she was such a stupid fool, that she was special, had _always_ been special, much better than her, better than anyone else she’d ever met…

…but Stephanie never gave her the chance. She reached forward and yanked Toni’s head towards her, pressing their lips together. It was hard, fast and hot, and made the girl’s bones heat up as if they were on fire. She sucked in a sharp breath, reaching out to cup her face, but as soon as her hand left Steph’s, her friend pulled away brusquely, leaving Toni gasping and her hand touching only air. 

“Steph, what…” she murmured, confused, opening her eyes, just to see the girl already running away from her towards the Witch. _“NO!”_ she screamed, jumping to her feet and nearly falling over Peggy. _“STEPHANIE! WAIT!”_ she stepped over the girl, running behind her. _“STEPH! COME BACK!”_

She jumped over the edge of the building, her blue and red uniform disappearing in the distance against the outline of the Walpurgis. There was ten seconds of deafening silence, and then a loud explosion knocked Toni down violently, waves of heat and light and sound washing over her and wrenching light posts from the ground.

The sound of the Walpurgis laughter died abruptly.

_“STEPHANIE!”_

.  
.  
.

That was only the first time it went wrong.

.  
.  
.

Finding her body had been no easy business. Manhattan was a complete chaos and at some points the water rose to her waist and she couldn’t see where she was stepping. She had to find her, though. She just had to find her.

 _“Steph!”_ she panted, as she finally spotted familiar blonde hair, slipping from a big chunk of concrete and flaying her arm painfully. She got up awkwardly, splashing through the water, and run towards her urgently. “Steph! _Stephanie!”_

She dropped to her knees, grabbing the girl and painfully pulling her up to a sitting position, supporting her torso. Steph was cold, wet, and in a terrible shape, and seemed to weight tons when she couldn’t support her own weight. “Stephanie, don’t do this to me!” hissed Toni, fumbling to try and get a pulse. “Don’t do this to me, don’t be dead, _don’t be dead_ , please, please, you just can’t…” her voice broke into a sob. “You _can’t…_ you…”

There was no pulse. Toni already knew there would be no pulse. She began sobbing, burying her face in Steph’s hair, yelling at her in the most creative swear language she could manage. Why. _Why?_ For _fuck’s sake, why_ did everyone she loved kept _dying?!_

And why _Stephanie?_ Why Stephanie Rogers of all people? How could she loose her parents, and then Yinsen, even Peggy, and now Steph, too? She had a _family_. She had parents, and a sister, and a bunch of wacko girls who loved her back at home. She was the best person she had ever met, she had saved Manhattan, she had saved _her_ – so _why?_ Why did she have to die?

Toni screamed again, her throat going hoarse and dry and her body beginning to really freeze in the chill air. She had survived the car crash, the surgeries, the rehab, survived Yinsen’s death, but she couldn’t survive this. She couldn’t possibly find her way out of Stephanie being dead.

“You stupid, idiotic girl!” she hiccupped into her hair, when all anger finally died out. “I am not more important than you. I am _not_ more special than you!” she choke on a bad sob, her fingernails digging into Steph’s arms. “I wanted you to be alive instead.” she moaned, feeling her bones turning to dust.

“Do you really wish for that, Antonia?”

Her head jerk up violently. Fury was sitting in an overturned car just to her right, staring at her unflinchingly. “What?” blabbered the girl, her voice rough, blinking at him.

“Do you really wish for that?” repeated the panther, evenly. “Do you wish for that enough to pay your life for it? Would you exchange it for the strength to make your wish come true?”

“You mean…” she blinked, staring down at Stephanie as her brain kicked into gear again. “I could contract.” she felt her heart struggling to beat again in her chest. “But…”

But Fury had already told her she had enough potential to bring just one person back. She had been struggling with it, incapable of making a choice between all of her deaths, or even to make a decision of using the wish on them at all. There was still Obadiah to consider, and the hundreds of people whose life he was destroying.

Stephanie would never forgive her for bringing her back, but not Peggy. Toni might’ve risked it anyway, might’ve made the wish even if it would mean losing her in a whole new way, but she was nothing if not stubborn. There _had_ to be another way.

If only she had contracted before the Walpurgis…

 _Oh_ , whispered her blain, as it completed the circuit and the lights finally flickered on. 

She set Stephanie down gently, rubbing her eyes to get the tears off. Shaking a bit, she forced herself to get up and turned around to face Fury. “I want to make a wish and form a contract with you.” she told him, her voice hard and stubborn.

The panther agreed, nodding once in acknowledgment. “Very well, then.” he said, his tail twitching. “So tell me, Antonia Stark: what wish shall make your Soul Gem powerful?”

Toni clenched her hands at her side, forcing every word to come out of her mouth. “I wish to go back to the day I met Stephanie.” she replied, her lower lip trembling even as her voice came out without a flinch. “I want to do it again. I want to do it _better_. I want to be able to protect her.” she looked Fury in the eyes, letting out a heavy breath. “To go back and protect her: that is my wish.”

Fury did not answer her – just as Toni was beginning to think it hadn’t worked, she felt a searing pain piercing her chest. For a moment, she panicked completely, the sensation much too reminiscent of what it felt like having a piece of metal burying itself on her heart – but just then a bright light burst through her hands, a deep, midnight blue with an oval shape.

Completely by instinct, not knowing what it was even as her head throbbed painfully, she reached out and held it tightly in her hand.

The world blacked out violently and Toni closed her eyes, losing consciousness all at once.

.  
.  
.

The alarm clock began blasting _Highway to Hell_ at exactly 7 a.m., jerking Toni awake and nearly making her fall off her mattress. Kicking her covers, she rolled around in bed, feeling for the stupid thing and practically knocking it off the nightstand before she managed to silence it. She let her hand rest on top of it, still half-high from the fright and half-asleep from the poorly slept napping.

 _Motherfucker_ , why in the damn whole hell had she programmed her alarm clock to play AC/DC before she’d even had her morning coffee? What the fuck was wrong with her? Why would anyone with the smallest resemblance of good sense want to be woken up by guys screaming at… at… at what hour in the morning, again? 

Wait. Wait a second – what _day_ was it? And, speaking of it, where was she? The fuck was even happening? The girl forced her lazy brain to kick into gear, trying to remember going to sleep last night. It had something to do with _Stephanie…_

Her eyes jerked open. _“FUCK!”_ cursed Toni, sitting up fast enough to make her brain bounce. She scrambled madly for her phone, snapping it from the nightstand and checking the date with fumbling fingers. 

October.

_October._

“Holy shit.” whispered the girl, staring at the screen in shock. With a start, she began throwing her covers away, feeling hurriedly around in her mattress, until her hand closed over a warm oval-shaped object. She brought it closer to her face, her Soul Gem shining an innocent deep blue, several shades darker than Stephanie’s. “Holy _shit.”_ she repeated, a frantic smile growing broader in her face. 

She jumped from the bed, ignoring the clothes the maid had left for her over a chair, the brand new school uniform, in favor of running downstairs in her shorts and baggy shirt. _“HAPPY!”_ she exclaimed, making the man drop his toast when he jumped in surprise. “What day is it today?” she asked him, holding on to the door frame to keep from skipping right past it. 

“Monday, miss Stark.” he replied, cleaning the jam off this tie and staring at her with surprise plastered all over his face. “First day of class.” he added, opening a small smile.

 _First day of class_ , repeated Toni inside her head, opening an even bigger smile. “FUCK, YEAH!” she screamed, dashing upstairs again to take a shower. The day she’d met Stephanie. It had worked. It had _fucking worked!_ She got out of the bath drying her hair, hunting her boots and pulling on the school uniform all at once, tripping on her skirt, hitting her elbow on the drawer and smiling all the way through it.

“Miss Stark, your breakfast…!” called the maid, hurriedly, following after her as Toni got into the car’s front seat. 

“Already ate!” she answered, waving a wafer at her before she shut the door. “C’mon, Happy, time is money, knowledge is power, all that shit or whatever, let’s get going!”

Happy gave her a side glance, probably wondering if she’d begun doing drugs on addition to underage drinking, but Toni pulled the seatbelt in firmly, ignoring it. She wanted to see Stephanie. She really, _really_ wanted to see Stephanie.

By the time the teacher told her to come in, Toni was just about ready to storm in and demand her best friend be delivered to her. She walked in, her eyes going right to the middle row, and her muscles all went loose at the sight of her. It was if the world’s orbit tilted back into place, as if she had finally woken up from a long, dragged nightmare, and on top of that, it was Saturday. The relief flooding her veins was so palpable it felt like a living thing.

Stephanie was looking at her with neutral curiosity, holding Fury in her lap. Her hair was pulled back in the same princess ponytail from before, the blue ribbon tied perfectly around it. Her eyes were clear, warm, brilliant and very much alive. Her lips and cheeks were pink. Her chest was rising and falling peacefully with her breath. She was blinking, moving, and beautifully alive and Toni’s knees felt like pudding as she drowned herself in it.

She just couldn’t resist it – Toni shot her the most charming smile she could possibly manage, just an inch short of a miniature sun. Steph startled, looking over her shoulder, as if searching for who Toni had been smiling at. Fury tipped his head, his front paws braced on the desk, regarding her curiously. Her friend looked back at her, a slight blush on her cheeks and a look that all but screamed “who? Me?”

Toni smiled again, incapable of _not_ flirting with her, then looked away before she could attract too much attention. The teacher was closing the door behind her, asking gently: “Antonia, do you want to introduce yourself to your colleagues?”

The brunette shook her head, easily. “Nah, there’s nothing interesting to say about me.” she answered, offering the woman a small smile. Her teacher agreed and gestured her to her seat, walking back to the board.

Toni sat down and, too eager to wait for a single more minute, took her notebook out of her backpack and started scribbling. It took several attempts before she was happy with the result, the note conveying just enough familiarity not to sound creepy, and enough innuendo to explain her Magical Girl status. She calculated angle, force, and the air conditioning wind in her mind, waiting for the teacher to give her back to them. Then she crumpled the paper in a little ball and tossed it right on top of Steph’s desk.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl jumping, as it landed exactly on top of her own notes. Staring at it suspiciously and tossing a glance around, she opened it with ginger fingers. She read it through once, then twice, and then a small smile appeared at the edge of her lips. Toni did her best not to smile like a fool when Stephanie uncapped a pen and began writing back.

She let her left hand dangle loosely from the side of her desk and, sure enough, soon she felt the paper landing right back in her fingers with Captain America precision. The girl opened it under the desk, making sure the crumpled paper didn’t make noise. At the top of the page, in her own messy scribble, she re-read her own message: _Hey_ , it said, sided by a smiley face, _wanna have lunch together? I’m paying. For you and Fury._

And underneath it, in Stephanie’s neat, clear handwriting: _I brought lunch from home. But Fury always eats all of my fries, so an argument could be made._

Toni smiled at the piece of paper and folded it carefully, tucking it into her wallet, not giving a damn how sappy it sounded. She was buzzing with energy, relief already turning into eagerness: to see Peggy again, to change into Magical Girl costume, to kick some Witches’ butts. To put Obadiah in jail, finish her repulsor technology, get her company on track. 

And most of all, hopefully, with luck, to ask Stephanie out on a date.

She had it all figured out. It would be _perfect._

.  
.  
.

She also had time-stopping powers.

She had. Motherfucking. Time-stopping powers.

“How cool _is_ that?” she asked Stephanie, smiling broadly, and inspecting the mechanism in her right arm. It was round and small, about thrice the size of a regular watch, with many gears and glass displays. The glove allowed her to control it – it was filled with some sort of liquid that allowed her to stop time, and its reserves varied accordingly to her Soul Gem pureness. She’d have to watch out for that, or maybe find a way to duplicate the liquid.

She’d get there soon enough. Stephanie held her arm by the elbow and wrist, turning it around to get a better look. She seemed to be strangely at ease touching Toni, more than she remembered Steph being at first – maybe some tiny part of her still remembered. Their eyes met and her friend smiled at her, the same enchanting blue eyes as always.

“It’s really very impressive, Toni.” agreed Peggy, her hand on her chin as she run her pretty brown eyes over it. “But do you know how to use it?”

“What do you mean? Of course I know how to use it.” she replied, grinning and turning her palm up. “I just need to turn this, and if I…”

“No.” interrupted Peggy, gently, shaking her head. “I mean, do you know how to use it tactically in a fight?”

Toni stared blankly at her. “I know how to aim and shoot?” she tried, opening her best dazzling smile. Peggy was _deeply_ unmoved, so the girl switched off to puppy eyes. “Aw, _c’mon_ , Peggy. I’m a teen genius! I’ll get it. And I really _do_ know how to shoot, I wasn’t lying about that.” She leaned in her personal space, lowering her voice to a seductive whisper. “I’ll teach you how, get you some better guns. _Free guns_ , Peggy. Free, hot from the oven, completely exclusive and well-calibrated _guns_.”

She saw the corner of Peggy’s lips twitching and beamed smugly. Bingo. “What… with the gun talk?” interjected Stephanie, looking at them awkwardly. “Girls? What’s… what’s with that look?” she paused, and a small flick of humor shone in her eyes. “Should I be worried?”

“Meh,” smiled Toni, shrugging and blinking her eyes at her. “I’m only planning to shoot at Witches. I can’t speak for Peggy, though.”

“I’ve been shooting at Witches before you could _hold_ a gun.” replied Peggy, giving her a very smug look. “Let’s see how you hold your own against a _real_ Witch.” she teased, indicating the entrance to the Labyrinth. 

Toni grinned back cockily. Stephanie rolled her eyes at them. 

Toni’s first Witch, admittedly, was harder than she’d thought it would be. Granted, her heart problem and fucked-up spinal cord had been fixed by the contract, and she was in general much better physical condition, but she had never been exactly the athlete type. She had strength, from carrying and wielding and hammering in the lab, but no real agility or swiftness. To make matter worse, the Labyrinth had no ground to speak off, and while Peggy and Steph easily bounced from the clotheslines that crisscrossed the place, she could barely steady herself in them.

“Oh, _shit.”_ she hissed, as her boots didn’t help her find her footing at all. She held on for dear life, barely managing to stay upright, let alone get a shot at the thing.

It wasn’t very dignified, but Peggy was very honored about the whole thing: she threw her ribbons in a complicated pattern, snapping the lines and tying them together in a catwalk. “Toni! _Now!”_ she called out, struggling to keep it in place.

“Got it!” she replied, letting go of the line and turning her clock on.

Time froze around her, the colors muted and sound dead. She landed on the catwalk, putting her weight on the ball of her feet and sprung forward. She run as fast as she could even as her side burnt and, gritting her teeth, pulled out the small bomb out of the arsenal she had patched together. 

She jumped at the end of the path, throwing her arm back and tossing the bomb with all her strength right underneath the Witch. It hit its target with surgical precision, and time violently began flowing again.

The Labyrinth exploded and Toni landed hard, rolling to keep the fall from twisting her ankle. She sat down breathing heavily, covered in sweat in a way she hadn’t been ever since before the accident. The girl put her weigh on her hands, letting out a relieved breath and fanning herself – Toni had just about begun to get her bearings, when she was suddenly swept up off her feet by a very enthusiastic and very blonde Stephanie Rogers. 

“YOU DID IT!” she cheered, practically strangling her with the strength of her hugging. “You killed one _on your first go!”_

“HOLY- Stephanie, you’re _killing_ me!” complained Toni, even as her friend completely ignored her. She struggled, laughing so hard her belly hurt, and Steph kept hugging her. Peggy leaned over and tousled her hair, laughing too.

“Congratulations, rookie.” she teased, but there was an edge of true affection in her voice. 

“GET HER OFF ME!” demanded Toni, twisting and laughing like crazy when her friend began spinning her around.

“You don’t fool me with the stoic façade!” replied Steph, gleefully, her voice strong and happy and a bit breathless. “I’m going to tickle you into submission!”

 _“Get her off meeeee!”_ she pleaded, dramatically, squirming and desperately grabbing for Peggy’s hand. The girl made the mistake of holding it, and all three of them went tumbling to the ground, landing right on top of Stephanie, and things just became positively ridiculous from then on.

She was acting completely ridiculous.

She didn’t actually care.

.  
.  
.

The real odd thing about this new timeline was that Tora suddenly existed.

Well, of course she had existed before, but certainly not in the way she did now. As in, she was Stephanie’s roommate. She lived in Steph’s house and went to their school and was friends with them (not enough to be let in on the whole evil Witches thing). It was weird. Kind of nice. But weird.

“Tora moved in this summer.” explained Stephanie, when Toni was properly introduced to the girl. “I’m not so sure why, she doesn’t stay at home so much. I _think_ that it might have something to do with her sister.” 

“Her sister?” repeated the girl, curiously, accepting the soda Steph was handing over.

“Yeah.” her friend opened the corn package and headed over to the oven, grabbing sault on the way. “I read about it online, actually. Tora has a little sister named Loki, but she run away from home earlier this year.” she busied herself making popcorn and looked over her shoulder briefly before she kept going. “Because her father is an ambassador, everyone thought she had been kidnapped. It was real big.”

“I _remember_ hearing about that!” interjected Toni, surprised. At the time, still stuck at the center and worried about Obadiah, she hadn’t paid much attention to the case, but she did recall it. Had all this happened the same way it had before she turned back time? But if it had, how come Tora hadn’t been around before?

Stephanie only nodded gravely. “But then they got word from her, saying she was all right, but she couldn’t come home.” she whispered, secretively, watching the pan. “I think Tora might be after her. I don’t know how a twelve year old would get from Washington to NY, but Tora spends a lot of time walking around, and she comes home by taxi more often than not. I don’t know what else she could be doing.”

Toni whistled, shaking her head as she passed Steph the bowl. Maybe she could ask Tora about it later, offer her some help, or any shit like that. They didn’t talk much, but she liked the girl’s way of talking, the tick Norwegian accent, the non-existence of an in-doors voice. She didn’t poke in anyone else’s business and was willing to loudly sing karaoke with her, the most embarrassing, obnoxious songs, which to Toni meant she was cool.

“Are you two done invading my kitchen?” asked Quinn, taking off her training gear as she walked in – she’d been putting in extra effort on her archery as the next competition drew nearer. The woman glared at them strictly, as if trying to shoo out the little children from the hot oven, _specially_ Toni. “Did you keep from exploding anything this time?”

“It was that _one_ time.” she replied, indignant, looking back at Stephanie. “Are you going to let her accuse me? _One time_ , Stephanie! She’s persecuting me!” 

“We are still taking pieces of egg out of the ceiling, Toni.” answered Steph, in a bored voice, not even turning back. 

“I was trying to make breakfast!” protested Toni, placing a hand dramatically over her heart.

“Not in my kitchen, Stark. _You_ are still in probation.” interjected Quinn, shaking her arm guard at the girl’s nose. “Out. Out! Out before you cause any more disasters! Go sit in the couch like a good kid.”

“PHILLY, Quinn is picking on me again!” called out the brunette, sticking her head on the living room. Phillipa raised her eyes, sighed dramatically and shook her head.

“Stop fighting, kids.” she said, the most dull look in her face, turning back to the TV. 

“How’s the cake?!” interrupted Jean, raising her head from where it had dramatically dropped on top of the center table. “Quinny, I am dying! I need cake!”

“The cake will be ready when the cake is ready!” replied Quinn, slapping Toni’s behind to get her off the kitchen. “Perfection takes time!”

“I’ve got the popcorn!” added Stephanie, exiting the kitchen trying to balance two humongous bowls of popcorn. “Help!”

Tora got up and swiftly grabbed one of the bowls, setting back down on the rug with her back on the couch, next to Peggy’s legs. Toni put the movie on, pressed play, grabbed the remote and flopped down on the cushions next to Stephanie. Peggy passed her a cup and grabbed a handful of popcorn as Quinn left the kitchen declaring the cake “needed a few more minutes”. 

Jean groaned like a dying whale. Philly slapped the back of her head. “The movie is beginning.” she chastised, making Brenna chuckle. Toni smiled behind her cup, half watching the movie, half revising their strategy for Walpurgis Night. At least this time she’d managed to get their costumes upgraded with plenty of time to get used to them. She was still seeing about punching Xavier in the face – she’d totally do that, no matter what Stephanie had to say on the matter.

She was still going through half a dozen plans and projects on her mind, when she saw, out of the corner of her eyes, Peggy sliding her hand into Steph’s. The girl gave her a sideways glance, a brief understanding, then laid her head on Stephanie’s shoulder. Just as her friend was blushing violently, not knowing if she should look at Peggy or at Toni, the brunette smiled and mimicked the gesture, resting her body against Steph’s.

No one was in any hurry to figure this out, after all. If there was anyone in the world she could share Stephanie with, even for a little time, it was Peggy. The blonde blinked at them, surprised, and then relaxed again, perfectly content with being used as a pillow. She didn’t eat anything the whole movie because she wouldn’t let go of their hands.

.  
.  
.

The second time it went wrong, Toni was so furious she barely had the time to be afraid. She was fighting this time, with enough viciousness to scare herself, her whole body singing with anger and frustration and disbelief. Looking back on that fight, Toni could barely remember it – she had been too out of her mind.

They had lost Peggy again.

And now Stephanie was lying on the floor, writhing and screaming in pain and Toni had no idea what was wrong with her.

“What’s wrong, Steph?!” she pleaded, desperate, completely helpless, holding her hand as her friend nearly broke her fingers and screamed her lungs out. “What’s hurting?! What’s _wrong?_ Stephanie, please, _talk to me!”_

She wasn’t bleeding. There was no head injury, no damaged ribs, no broken bones. Toni had panicked, thinking it could’ve been an internal injury, but her Soul Gem’s healing hadn’t fixed anything. She was _perfect_ , she was _okay_ , so _why was she screaming?_ “Stephanie, _please stop!”_ she begged, whizzing as her breath became short and labored. _“Please! Stop screaming!”_

The girl’s body jerked violently, making Toni pu ll her hand away reflexively. Stephanie’s Soul Gem suddenly materialized in her hand and the brunette’s heart went through her throat as she realized it was _completely black_. She was staring in horrified silence even as Steph’s yelled harder than she had ever before, and the shiny walls of the Gem exploded, revealing a black circular form that Toni was _much_ too familiar with.

She didn’t even realize what she was doing until she had spun her clock around violently, and the world once again blacked out and disappeared. 

.  
.  
.

She opened her eyes as her clock began screaming, and, not even bothering to silence it, threw herself off the bed and run to her bathroom. She fell to her knees next to the bathtub, her sense of direction completely fucked up, and heaved painfully, her fingers digging at the white edges. She sat there, shaking violently and panting in an unsuccessful attempt to catch her breath again.

 _Fury lied to us_ , she thought, rage and terror equally filling her veins. _I have to warn them._

_I have to warn her._

.  
.  
.

“What would Fury gain by lying to us in such manner, Stark?”

Toni stared at her, her whole body _still_ cold from the moment Peggy had died again, not daring to believe Tora was actually telling her this. Who did she think _she_ was? Stephanie’s best friend? _Toni_ was Stephanie’s best friend! _Toni_ was the one who had sold her soul to the devil to save her, who loved her, who was here being accused for trying to protect her.

Why was Tora _here?_ How did she dare show up again, acting as if Steph and her had known each other forever, and looking completely blank when Toni brought Loki up? How dare she? _How dare she?_

“What are you…” she hissed, unbelieving, her hands shaking against the urge to punch her in the face.

“Do you wish to throws us against one another?” interrupted Tora, suspiciously, stepping forward so she was half on front of Stephanie. Toni’s blood boiled. “Is that why you are saying such foolish nonsense?” her frown deepened, her eyes narrowing at her. “Don’t tell me you’re conspiring with that Loki girl?”

 _That Loki girl?_ “What _the fuck is wrong_ with you, Odison?!” she demanded, remembering the way Loki, only thirteen years old and thin as a stick, had stared at her as if seeing the ghost of Christmas Past. “How can you talk about her like that?!”

“Tora, that is enough!” interrupted Stephanie, when the girl motioned forward, putting an arm across her chest. “We have no basis to accuse Toni of anything, and we shouldn’t be turning on her to begin with.”

Tora sagged, obviously not wanting to go against Steph, and Toni felt a murderous desire to pull her friend away from that liar. “If I may say so,” replied Tora, looking at her with mistrust, “I am against allying ourselves with her. We are not even sure where she gets those weapons from, and I believe fighting with firearms is much too dangerous – it’s dishonorable.”

 _“Dishonorable?!”_ screamed Toni, trudging forward even as Steph and Peggy tensed. “What do we _fucking_ care about honor, you idiot?! Do you think this is a _game?_ These freaking all-powerful _monsters_ are trying to _kill_ us and you are fucking worried about honor?! ”

The temperature in the room fell by various degrees. Tora growled, pushing Stephanie away and grabbing Toni’s shirt violently, lifting her off the ground. “Do not speak of me that way, Stark!” she howled, bringing their faces close together. _“Your_ family is the one who sells death and violence. Do _not_ assume I do not know what your _guns_ are being used for!”

Her vision went dark at the edges, filling with blood as it pounded on her ears. “Put. Me. Down.” snarled the girl, staring viciously at Tora. “Or so _help me_ , Odinson…”

“STOP IT!” screamed Peggy, yanking Toni from Tora’s grip as Stephanie grabbed Tora’s arm and pulled her away. “Stop it _right now!_ What’s going on with you two!?” she demanded, pushing the brunette away and glaring at her darkly. “We are _not_ enemies here!” 

“I’ve _heard_ about Stark Industries, and what they have been accused of!” replied Tora, aggressively, pushing against Steph who shoved her back firmly. “I do not trust her, Peggy. The apple never falls away from the tree.”

Toni’s body reacted before she could even process the other girl’s words. She shot forward, pushing Peggy to the side and landed a punch on Tora’s stomach, with all the strength she could conjure. Stephanie yelled at her, trying to get between them even as Tora doubled over, coughing from the hit. “If you _speak_ about my family again _one more time_ , I _will_ kill you.” growled Toni, shaking with anger. She couldn’t bear to see the look in Stephanie’s face, so she turned around and fled the scene, even as her friend called out after her.

If she was even her friend anymore, that is.

She wondered just how disappointed Yinsen was at her right now. 

.  
.  
.

That timeline was also the first time Loki turned into a Witch.

It had taken some time for Toni to realize Tora honestly had no recalling whatsoever of who Loki was. She had wondered if _this_ Loki wasn’t the same Loki Stephanie had told her about, but anyone with _eyes_ could see the way the dark-haired girl stared at Tora every time they met. She couldn’t understand how the _moron_ couldn’t see it in Loki’s face. Did it take one to recognize one? Was that why she could understand it so plainly?

“You already know it, don’t you?” asked Loki, one late afternoon when Toni finally managed to corner her with the promise of food.

Fenrir was sprawled in the ground next to them, and the older girl was rubbing his tummy with her foot. She wasn’t particularly a dog person, but it was hard not to like Fenrir. “Do I know what?” she replied, not looking up. “About Soul Gems?” she nudged the rest of her own food towards the brunette. “Or about you and Tora?”

Loki gave her a suspicious look under her dark fringe. Her food intake must be wild, uncontrolled and very unstable if she could eat two whole Burger King meals and still be this skinny. Toni wondered what the baggy clothes were for – hiding injuries, hiding the fact you could probably count her ribs, or simply hiding. Maybe a bit of the three. “How did you figure it out?” she replied, pulling her cat further up on her lap. “About me?”

Toni stopped to consider this question. She _could_ tell Loki about the time travelling, but she was afraid it would cost her the girl’s trust. So she bent forward to scratch Fenrir’s ears, and told her the most basic truth. “I paid attention.”

Loki stared at her some more, starved in every way, and begun packing the food she’d offered. “You sure you aren’t gonna kill me in my sleep if I move in?” she asked, sounding indifferent and nonchalant.

 _Was that how I sounded?_ she wondered, thinking of the day, seemingly a million light-years ago, when she’d asked Yinsen if he actually thought she could do anything good.

She hoped this counted for something. “I don’t think Fenrir would let me.” she admitted, smiling as he waved his tail against Loki’s legs.

For all Tora crashed and burned when she _finally_ figured out whom Loki was, Toni was really the one who lost her in that timeline.

Tora was screaming at Loki’s Witch in Norwegian, trying to make her come back, to make her remember. Toni couldn’t speak a word of Norwegian, but she could guess the contents of her screaming, and she knew it was too little, too late. She hadn’t wanted to dampen their hopes, not Peggy who had looked positively frightened even as she tried to hide it, not Stephanie who had been suffering in Tora’s behalf, not even Tora, who might be remarkably dumb, but who actually did give a shit about Loki.

 _Too little, too late,_ she thought, grimly, trying to keep Tora alive as she pleaded with the Witch.

And then Stephanie slipped off in the ice and let out a strangled cry as half a dozen stakes turned firmly in her direction like guided missiles. Cursing the entire universe mentally, Toni spun her clock swiftly and dashed towards her as fast as she could, coming to a messy halt in the slippery ice and raising her gun. She fired, teeth greeted, body aching with tension, putting a bullet in every single shard until she was sure they weren’t going to hit Stephanie.

Her shoulders sagged. Wearily, groaning at the stiffness of her muscles, she put the gun back in its holder, and pulled out a timed bomb, initiating the counter. She looked up at the huge ice snake, covered in blood and frost, and gently deposited the bomb at its feet.

“I am sorry, Loki.” she whispered, stepping back all the way towards Stephanie.

Her clock spun back to its original position, the ice shards shattered at the impact of the bullets, and the bomb exploded under the Witch, destroying the Labyrinth and sending them back to the empty street.

Tora hammered a nearby bicycle rack, twisting the metal into itself and leaning heavily into it. She was sobbing lowly, saying something that involved Loki’s name and a lot of shaking her head. Stephanie had dropped to her knees, her head bent and her shoulders shaking, crying dryly. Toni wanted desperately to solace her, but what she could say that would make any difference?

A burst of yellow light around her made her jump, and suddenly, Peggy’s ribbons were wrapped all over her body, tightening her arms against her torso, nearly suffocating her. There was the sound of a gunshot, of shattering glass and a dull _thump_ of something heavy falling to the ground. 

Tora’s body landed on its side, her Soul Gem destroyed, her muscles limp and eyes closed. “PEGGY!” yelled Toni, staring at her wide-eyed. “What did you DO?!” 

The girl was pointing her shotgun at her, hands trembling, eyes a mix of madness and fear. “If the Soul Gems turns us into monsters,” she replied, sounding dead, brain-damaged and completely out of her mind. “We have no choice but to destroy them.”

“THAT’S _MURDER!”_ screeched the girl, struggling against her bonds fruitlessly. “Drop that gun, Peggy!”

“I’m doing this for your own good, Antonia.” she replied, a completely psychotic smile at her lips. 

_“Drop that gun, Carter!”_ hissed Toni, using all her strength against her bonds.

“It’s for your own good.”

“DROP IT!”

_CRASH._

Peggy’s eyes went vacant just as her body slumped, the gun falling from her lifeless hands. She fell on the floor like a doll being pushed off a chair, the bullet hitting just next to Toni’s feet. The ribbons around her body dissolved.

Stephanie was still in her knees, her pistol firmly in her left hand, still pointing upwards to where Peggy’s Soul Gem had been just a second ago. She stared at it in horrified disgust, her body trembling violently, and dropped the thing clumsily on the floor. Then she began sobbing, body-shaking sobs, wailing and digging her fingernails in her face as she cried against the palms. “I can’t _do this_ anymore!” hiccupped Stephanie, rocking back and forth. “I can’t deal with it! I _can’t!_ I can’t… please, no more… _no more…_ please…”

Toni felt as if her muscles had forgotten how to move, but she walked to her anyway, wrapping Stephanie close in her arms, caressing her back. “It’s okay.” she whispered, soothingly, gulping down her own tears. “It’ll be okay, Steph. Cap. We can do this together.” she hugged even tighter, her lips against the girl’s hair. “You are not alone. I’m here for you. Please, Steph.” she took a deep breath. “Let’s do it together.”

Stephanie’s crying quieted down slowly, even though it didn’t stop. She wrapped her arms around Toni’s neck and all but climbed in her lap, nodding against her skin. Toni hugged her and already dreaded the moment she’d have to let go.

.  
.  
.

The third time it went wrong, Toni almost felt relieved. It was raining, and the soft sound of water dripping and pooling underneath her body soothed her fried nerves. She felt the hysterical, probably shock-induced urge to break into song and start singing _A Little Fall of Rain_ , which would be, without doubt, the most dramatic and ridiculous thing she had ever done in her entire life. And that was saying something.

Stephanie’s hand was lying next to hers, their pulses on top of one another. Her hair was plastered to her face, but she seemed completely calm, her eyes half-closed, as if she’d just woken up. That was a view Toni didn’t mind dying for. “Hey,” she called out, glancing at their darkened Soul Gems, “seems like this is it, huh?”

Toni smiled and nodded. Weird that this wasn’t hurting. Stephanie had screamed like hell for a good time before her Soul Gem finally burst. Maybe resisting it had been what caused the pain. “Do you have any Grief Seeds?” she asked, wondering where the Walpurgis’ Seed had fallen. It was probably a humongous one, but they couldn’t possibly get up for long enough to go fetch it. Ironic, huh?

But they had done it. They had defeated it. Together.

Stephanie chuckled, and Toni thought she had never looked more beautiful. “Nah.” she answered, shaking her head and looking up at the sky. It all seemed remarkably funny. God, she must be deep into shock right now.

Toni hummed under her breath, wishing she had the strength to hold on to Stephanie’s hand. “Say what,” she whispered, softly, closing her eyes. “When we turn into Witches, do you want to share a Labyrinth? We could do a hella lot of damage together.” she let out the rest of the air in her lungs. “I’m good at it. Fucking shit up. ‘been doing that for most of my life, actually.” the point where their arms touched was the last thing grounding Toni to the earth. She barely felt as the tears begun running down. “If you would help me, we could probably destroy… absolutely _everything…_ until there’s nothing and no one else left to harm and we can finally just stop giving a damn.”

She smiled, enjoying the mental image. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Toni heard Stephanie chuckling before she felt it, a dust of wind, like taking a drug to her veins, and she knew only one thing could’ve done it. She snapped her eyes open, turning her head around, and there was Steph, laying on her side, her left hand pressing a Grief Seed against Toni’s Soul Gem. She was so shocked, she didn’t even react to it.

“I kinda lied about that.” admitted Stephanie, opening a shy smile, and Toni’s heart shattered. Steph couldn’t remember having said the exact same thing at her a lifetime ago, but it sounded so terribly similar. “I was saving this one for an emergency.”

Toni turned on her side, grabbing Steph’s hand and trying to pull it away. “Get it off, you’re wasting everything on me…!” she urged, trying to drag it towards her friend’s Gem.

Stephanie resisted, locking her arm in place. “No.” she said, hard resolve and soft plea in her voice. The girl stopped pushing, staring at her with disbelief.

“But why?” she managed to ask, her voice trembling and her fingers tightening around Steph’s.

The girl smiled at her, tears making way through the dried blood and dust in her face, falling between her split lips and cut chin. “Because I want to ask you a favor.” she whispered, almost apologetically, as if she was sorry for bothering. “Toni… you can go back in time… right?” she asked, more tears coming to her eyes. “You can go back… and change things… and keep stuff likes this from happening… right?”

Wordlessly, the brunette nodded, unable to tear her eyes away. “Then…” chocked Stephanie, squeezing her hand back, “could you please go back… and keep me from being this stupid… and being tricked by Fury again?” she asked, her words breaking and falling, her blue eyes desperately searching her face.

Toni sat up as her Soul Gem got completely cleansed, holding Steph up in her arms – it was much, much easier now. “I promise.” she whispered, trying to breathe through the void in her chest. “I promise, Steph. Even if I have to do it over and over again, I won’t…” she chocked, holding on tighter to her. “I won’t let him lie to you, I swear, Steph, I won’t give up on you. I will _never_ let him have you.” she pressed their foreheads together, sobs rattling through her. “I promise.”

Stephanie breathing was becoming more labored as she lay half in Toni’s lap, half resting against her torso. She smiled, turning her head a bit to bury it in the girl’s shoulder. “Thank you”, she whispered, just as a spasm of pain made her cringe and groan painfully. “Toni,” she called, urgently, behind gritted teeth and shaking hands. “There’s one more thing.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, tears of pain running down her cheeks as she forced the words out. Toni felt herself dying a bit more every second she had to see Stephanie fighting back pain. “I don’t want to…” panted Steph, grabbing her shirt with one hand, “to become a Witch.”

Her fingers were jerking against Toni’s belly, clenching and unclenching – but her eyes were set, and sure and digging into her in that way only Steph managed to. “I know that we lost them,” she whispered, never breaking eye contact. “I know Fury lied to us, I know everything became so horrible, but I…” she shook her head, a broken laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t want to forget it. I don’t want to hurt my family… and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Maybe some part of Toni knew this would be the last time Stephanie looked at her like that. She had already been so lucky to have that for so long, and this was pushing it – maybe she already knew what would happen once she spun her clock.

Maybe that had been why she bent down and kissed Steph.

It was only a touch of lips, softer than that only other time they’d kissed, just enough to feel the pressure. She cupped the girl’s cheek, sliding her lips against hers, tasting sweat, blood and rain, just for a second before she had to pull away – but then Stephanie opened her mouth and began kissing back with passionate hunger. Toni tightened her embrace, pressing their bodies together, holding her face firmly as they kissed desperately, sucking on her lips until they became red again, only a passing impression before the pained paleness returned.

Steph was breathing hard against her as their lips stilled and Toni pulled back only half an inch, letting their mouths slide together and giving her light butterfly kisses. Stephanie’s left hand was grabbing her shirt for real now, as if the girl couldn’t unclench it. She smiled, letting out a little chuckle as she returned all of the small kisses. “I thought you were never going to…”

_CRASH._

.  
.  
.

.  
.  
.

.  
.  
.

Toni opened her eyes.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t make a single noise. She got up, tossed her covers away, turned her clock off and walked to the bathroom. 

It didn’t matter what she told them, they wouldn’t believe her anyway. Tora was too conceited, Stephanie was too naïve, and Peggy was too desperate. Loki didn’t give a damn anymore. Fury had them all pinned like chess pieces. 

No one would believe her. No one would listen to her. No one would help her.

But she didn’t need any of them. Toni could do this by herself. She opened the bathroom cabinet and took out the biggest pair of scissors inside. Collecting her hair in a ponytail with one hand, she chopped it off with the other, tossing the remains in the trash.

The girl looked at the mirror as she fixed the messy cut, firmly telling herself that she had a job to do, a promise to fulfill, and nothing else mattered. She couldn’t save everyone. She couldn’t save Loki, Tora or Peggy. And hers was definitely a lost cause.

But she was going to save Stephanie if it was the last thing she did.

.  
.  
.

It took her ages, a package of coffee, a box of energy bars and a splitting head-ache before she managed to adapt the Arc Reactor to her Soul Gem. The girl worked obsessively to get it done as fast as she could – she just couldn’t afford limiting her usage of magic, anymore. Her Gem was small, accounting only for the timeline in which she contracted, and not for everything that happened after she first rewind time. 

She needed power. She needed it desperately, and duplicating her clock’s time-stopping liquid was getting her nowhere. Even if adding magic to a miniaturized, still prototypal Arc Reactor was likely to get her killed before it got her going, Toni didn’t care – she finished it just as she was about to drop from exhaustion, and secured the leather straps around her torso. It stayed in her place, her Soul Gem shining brightly enough to bleed through her t-shirt’s fabric. 

She packed enough bullets to fill her entire house on the space-pocket of her glove, and left the house in her Magical Girl uniform, following the trails of magic deep into the city. She hunt, Witches and Familiars alike, one after another after another until her eyes were bleeding and her lungs poisoned, at which point, she kept on Hunting.

She didn’t need any help. She didn’t need anyone by her side. Didn’t need anyone to understand.

Toni wasn’t going to let _anyone_ drag Stephanie down. Not even Steph herself. She would defeat all the Witches alone, if that’s what it took. She would kill anyone who stood in her way. 

She would destroy the Walpurgis with her own two hands.

.  
.  
.

Being slammed against the side of a building by the combined force of her own blast and a direct hit from the Walpurgis hurt like a _bitch_. Toni groaned, every last bit of her body screaming in agony, but her Soul Gem still mercifully intact. She forced her arms to function, trying to peel herself off the wall, and caught a very familiar shade of blonde in the corner of her eyes.

She turned her head violently, recognizing Stephanie standing in the middle of the debris and destruction. She couldn’t see him, not from so far away, and not in the middle of so much black, but she _knew_ Fury had to be there with her, and the spike of panic it sent up her column hurt as badly as have it snapped in two by a car collision.

“STEPHANIE!” she yelled, pushing herself away from the building even as she saw the girl’s mouth moving, yelling something back at her she couldn’t hear. “DON’T LISTEN TO WHAT THAT MONSTER IS TELLING YOU!”

Something hit her hard on her side and she jumped away, her attention brusquely pulled back to the battle. She was exhausted, covering in sweat and dust and her body was aching like no one else’s business. But Toni kept fighting like a snarling tiger, desperate to slay this thing once and for all, to blow Fury up once more and stop Stephanie, stop her from doing this to herself one more time. 

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM!” screamed Toni, even as the Witch beat her within an inch of her life, even as she watched the time-stopping fluid draining like water through her fingers. “HE’S LYING TO YOU!”

She got a blow right across her chest that knocked all air out of her lungs. Losing her footing, losing any sort of control, Toni tumbled down from them seventh floor, her eyes locked in Stephanie as the girl turned towards Fury, her stance horribly familiar. 

_“DON’T!”_ begged Toni, at the top of her lungs, as she fell like a dead weight to the ground.

There was a blinding, soft blue light and Toni screamed until she couldn’t even see anymore.

.  
.  
.

Toni watched her own hands instead of looking at Fury. The wind was cold, and her clothes were a complete mess. She was famine, tired and aching all over, so she watched her hands. There was blood under her fingernails.

“She was remarkable when she finally contracted.” mused Fury, pleasantly, watching the looming shape in the horizon. “I did predict she’d be the strongest Magical Girl in Earth’s history… but to defeat the Walpurgis Night in _one hit?”_ he let out an impressed sigh. “She’s even stronger then I could imagine.”

Toni raised her eyes, staring off into the horizon. “So what happens now?” she breathed, curling her hands into fists to hide the nails. “If she exceeded your expectations?”

The panther hummed thoughtfully. “It doesn’t change anything, to be honest.” he finally replied, tilting his head. “As the greatest Magical Girl, she defeated her most fearsome enemy… and now has turned into the strongest Witch of them all.”

Toni turned her head, looking at the black outline that was all she could see from Stephanie’s Witch. One day, many lifetimes ago, she would have felt something. That wasn’t the case anymore.

Fury was still talking.

“Powerful as she is, it’s a matter of days before she destroys this planet,” he informed, licking a paw neutrally. “But it’s not my problem anymore – Earth’s energy quota has been fulfilled satisfactorily.”

Toni sighed, unbuttoning her blouse to check the level of the liquid. All fine and dandy, she concluded, rising to her feet and running a hand through her hair. Better she got going already. “Hmmm?” interjected Fury, when he saw her walking away. “Aren’t you going to fight?” he asked, puzzled, staring at her back.

“No.” answered Toni, inspecting her glove to make sure all the mechanisms were in order. “It didn’t work this time. I have nothing else to do around here.”

Behind her, she could hear Fury pulling in a breath only slightly harder than he usually did. “Antonia.” he said, raising his voice about the growing howl of the wind. “You couldn’t be…”

Toni clenched her hand, making the Arc Reactor spin backwards. 

.  
.  
.

Once again. Once again. Once again, no matter how many times it took. 

Toni raised her gun, aiming it at Fury and shooting right through its throat. As she stared down at the dead body by her feet, she heard something behind her, and turned around only to see one of its drones dashing right past her. Cursing, the girl took out after him, shooting one bullet after another as the panther dodged skillfully. 

It didn’t matter how many times. If she had to revive everything until she couldn’t remember her own name, even if she had to do this a hundred times over, it didn’t matter. Toni would do this again, just one more time each time, if it meant she could figure out a way to save Stephanie.

She turned a corner, her body well-oiled after so much time, hot in Fury’s heels, and halted brusquely, nearly hurting herself.

Stephanie was picking Fury up from the floor, her expression worried and gentle, talking to him in rushed tones. Toni stared, her heart spiking in a rare phantom pain. She stepped forward without paying attention, and the chains at her feet fell, making a hellish amount of noise.

Stephanie jumped and looked up at her. “Toni?” she panted, standing up as if she’d been electrocuted.

The girl stepped back, _hating_ the wary expression on Steph’s face. She was looking at her as if Toni was _dangerous_ , as if she felt threatened. How could she do this? How could she look Stephanie in the eye and kill an innocent, cuddly cat right in front of her? How could she make Steph hate her so much?

Fury moved slightly on Stephanie’s lap and Toni’s heart hardened again. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter anymore if Stephanie hated her. Nothing mattered anymore except stopping her from contracting. 

_If it’s for your sake, Cap_ , she thought as she stepped forward, her eyes once again empty, and her voice dead, _I don’t mind staying in hell for the rest of my days. ___


	12. "I'm Sorry, Toni"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, serious physical injury. Characters are dealing with the aftermath of Tora's death, including grief, guilt and mourning. 
> 
> Note: chapter has not been beta-ed. Zuzu's still working on chapter 11, so please bear with us. Thank you!

Fury seemed unbothered by Toni’s stormy reaction, as it always was. She remembered the moment she began hating him, hate him so much that it felt like a fire in the pit of her stomach, and sometimes, hate was the only thing she could feel at all. 

“Time Traveler Antonia Stark,” he called her, making the girl’s nerves twitch painfully. “You repeated this past two months a countless number of times, in many different worlds, changing the series of events to get to the conclusion you desired.”

Toni stared at him, wondering where all of this speech was going. It wasn’t the first time Fury realized whom she was and what she did, but it was the first time he confronted her about it. She wondered, for the millionth time, what would have happened if she had simply wished for Stephanie to be alive again.

The panther kept talking, his dark eyes focused on her. “Your existence has answered a question I’ve been asking myself. Why would Stephanie Rogers be such an insanely powerful Magical Girl? Now I can come up with a satisfactory hypothesis.”

Toni glared at him with all the heat she could muster. There was no rational explanation as to why Stephanie’s potential had been growing steadily as she reversed times. Soul Gems worked in impossibly twisted logics, making Charlie Xavier the most powerful Magical Girl in NY and herself, without the Arc-Reactor, one of the weakest. It was magic. When had it ever made sense?

“There is no hypothesis.” she told him, bitterly, looking away. “It _doesn’t_ make any sense, IC. A Soul Gem is as strong as the suffering a Magical Girl will go through – don’t you even realize what a fucking time paradox that is?” she shook her head, impatient, angry and hating how little sense magic made. “Contracting is what fucks up their lives, but fucked up lives are what power the contract? It’s bullshit.”

“Your logic is sound, as well, but I do believe I can explain Stephanie’s potential.” insisted Fury, unmoved. “It _was_ baffling to me that a girl in such a regular environment, with a completely harmless life had a potential equivalent to so much suffering. However, Antonia…” he got up from his spot on the floor, hoping on a worktable to be eye-level with her. “Could it be that she became so powerful precisely _because_ you repeated everything so many times?”

Toni’s breath froze inside her lungs. She did everything in her power to keep from flinching, keep from paling, but her head swam anyway, her vision filling with black spots. “What?” she chocked, staring at him wildly.

The panther hummed under his breath. “As I thought. You hadn’t let yourself think about that possibility, had you?” he scratched one ear and purred, satisficed. “Stephanie was the entire reason why you went back in time, Antonia. You jumped through too many parallel universes and fate lines that should’ve never have interacted. And the point around which all of them converged, was the very reason why they were brought together in the first place.” He paused, watching her as if she was his next prey. “Stephanie.”

Toni didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to understand it. For the first time in her life she wished ardently she wasn’t so smart, that she was too dumb to understand him, too stupid to see it laid out neatly in front of her. Stephanie’s Witch, huge and looming at the horizon, powerful enough to wipe out an entire planet, her Soul Gem burnt too bright and too strong and too fast…

…because of _her?_

Each time she rewind time, each time she did it all over again, each time she spun the Arc Reactor back and woke at her own bed and Stephanie once again had no idea whom she was… could it be, that all this time she’d been desperately pressing on with her teeth gritted and her bones hurting, what she had _actually_ been doing was…

”Congratulations, Antonia.” exclaimed Fury, his voice sounding falsely cheerful, making Toni’s head snap up brusquely. “You have raised Stephanie into the strongest Witch to ever be born.”

And it felt as if Toni’s soul had finally finished dying.

.  
.  
.

The day of Tora’s funeral, it was snowing really hard, freezing Stephanie from the outside in just as much as she was freezing from the inside out. Her father had brushed the snowflakes off her shoulder and hair when Steph made no attempt herself, then gently guided her into a sitting position. She felt likes she was in a haze. None of this had sank in, yet.

Tora really, really liked the snow. She used to say it reminded her of home, of good family memories. But last year, every time it would start snowing and they were at home, Stephanie would catch Tora staring out of the window, usually in the dining room or in the kitchen, where she could see the garden. Her friend always used to have that far-away expression on her face, the one she sometimes got for no discernible reason, the one that always made her look over her shoulder without meaning to.

Apparently Tora had figured out why she did it. Apparently, it had something to do with Loki. She hadn’t looked at the pictures in the girl’s Labyrinth, feeling they were too personal for her eyes. She didn’t want to know it if it didn’t come out of Tora’s lips.

From where she was sitting, she could see Jean and Nathan sitting together in an armchair right across the room. Jean’s legs were thrown over one of Nat’s knees, and she was resting her head on his shoulder. Her sister was crying silently, a steady trail of tears dripping down her cheeks, her eyes red as she looked at nothing in particular. The boy’s hand was digging into her waist tightly, and he’d buried his face in his hair, his shoulders shaking every now and then.

Slowly, dragged, as if she was moving through jelly, Steph turned her head to watch the rest of the room. Philly was sitting next to Tora’s mother, one arm around her shoulders, stroking her arm and speaking in low tones as the woman hid her face in her hands. Quinn was minding the host duties as Tora’s father talked on the phone, lowly, to some relative back in Norway. His hands were shaking. He looked three times older than he really was.

There were plenty of people from school, students from their class, Tora’s teammates, teachers, and even the lunch ladies, who’d had a long love affair with the girl that was always loudly complimenting their cooking. Brenna was probably in the other room with James and dr. Selving. The boy was in complete shock. Not even Darcy had managed to get a reaction from him. 

Her father was petting her hair. Stephanie hadn’t even felt when he put an arm around her shoulders. “Daddy?” she called out, her voice watery, staring at Jean and feeling an irrational, excruciating fear of losing her.

“Yes, sugar?” he replied, always with the old-fashioned nicknames. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears in.

“How do you…” she began, stopping mid-way and gulping hard before trying once more: “What do you do… after someone dies?” she rubbed at her eyes, tiredly. “Just how do you deal with it?”

She felt her father shift, cradling her better against his shoulder. Joseph never answered a question right away – he always considered it, weighting his answers, picking his words. Steph waited. “There’s more than one way.” he finally concluded, thoughtfully, interlacing their fingers. “Especially when you are in the army. They say the structure helps. The traditions, the expectations… it does take away the pressure of having to _figure out_ what to do. I suppose that such an ancient institution would’ve learned how to deal with death by now.”

Stephanie stared at their fingers, hearing the unspoken worlds in her father’s voice. “But?” she supplied, quietly.

“But,” said the man, stroking her hand with his thumb. “At your age… and in this circumstances…” he sighed deeply, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “If I know anything about you, doll, is that sooner or later, you’ll get mad about this.”

“And you _should_ be mad about it. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. Tora was…” his voice cracked, and he cleaned his throat briefly. “Much too young. Too happy. Her dying wasn’t… wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.” 

Stephanie gulped, squeezing her father’s hand. Tora was supposed to a warrior of justice. She was supposed to have fought side-by-side with Peggy, defeating Witches, saving people. She was supposed to have been happy and to have kissed her boyfriend many more times. Her best friend should be here with her, and the five of them should be hanging out together; her, Tora, James, Darcy, Peggy. Even Loki and Toni. Things weren’t supposed to be like that.

“So what do I do once I get angry?” she asked Joseph, very lowly. At the moment, she didn’t think she’d ever feel something other than exhaustion, but dad had proved her wrong before.

“Do something about it.” replied the man, backing away enough to look her in the eyes. They were so similar to her own, sometimes, it felt like looking in a mirror. “Getting mad about her death won’t make her any less dead, Steph. _But…”_ he turned around to look her fully in the face. “There are things you can do. Anything. Anything to honor her life, anything that reminds you of her, just _something…_ to make things better. And to make Tora remembered. _That_ is a good use of your anger.” He seemed embarrassed then, as he usually did when he spoke more than five sentences in a roll. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

Stephanie thought about it. About the way Fury had lied to them, manipulated them, guided them to their own destructions. About Loki yelling at Tora, Peggy shattering her own Soul Gem and her best friend yelling something she couldn’t make out over the snow.

The girl nodded. “Yeah.” she whispered, drying her cheeks. “I think I do.”

.  
.  
.

Stephanie climbed on her bed, kicking her shoes off. She never really realized how much she missed home until she came back. Her bedroom walls were covered with old drawings, and her growth chart was colorfully showing on the door’s frame. It was familiar and comforting, just as much as her parent’s presence just across the hallway. 

She pulled the covers to her chest and stared out of the window. This time last year, Tora was dragging the entire house outside to make snow people. The girl had pushed so many clothing into Stephanie she had felt like a snow woman herself. Thankfully, Jean had helped her shrug off half of it before they went outside. 

“Tora is dead.” she whispered out loud, trying out the worlds to see if it would make it any more real.

“That was hardly an unexpected development.”

 _Ah_ , thought Stephanie, as the blood boiled inside her veins, _there’s the anger_. “You don’t even _care_ , do you?” replied the girl, sitting up and staring at him. “Even though _you_ were the reason why they died?”

Fury sighed, sitting down at the end of her bed, his eyes eerie under the light reflected by the snow. “Stephanie, have you ever felt bad for cattle? Ever wondered how the meat you eat got into your plate?”

“YES!” hissed Steph, grabbing a pillow behind her. “I live with a _vegetarian_ for fuck’s sake!” she threw it with all her strength at the cat. “What’s _wrong_ with you, you _freak?_ Tora was not _cattle!”_

Fury dodged the pillow easily, flattening his body against the mattress. It flew right by him and hit the opposite wall with a soft _thump_. “That was unnecessary.” he remarked, sitting back comfortably. “I was only trying to make an analogy.”

“With _cattle?”_ snorted Stephanie, throwing her covers on top of him and standing up. She grabbed her shoes on the floor and put them away, pulling her pajamas from the drawer. 

“Perhaps I should’ve picked a different one.” conceded the panther, shrugging off from under the sheets. “Your father is in the army, isn’t he?”

The girl froze, halfway through opening the door – she closed it again carefully. “What _about_ my dad?” she asked, looking back at him.

“The army functions in a similar manner as the Magical Girl system.” he replied, evenly, as if that should make everything better. “For the sake of much larger populations, it’s generally agreed that a common soldier’s life may be spent in the battlefield. In exchange of a select number of men and women within a bigger unity, it’s possible to maintain the order and general prosperity of many more people.” he titled his head at her. “Doesn’t that make sense to you?”

“Are you saying it’s the same thing?” asked Stephanie, her teeth greeted. Her mother had worked herself to the bare bone mending wounded soldiers just so they could die again at the battlefield. Her father had killed people and hurt people for the sake of his family. She knew of the greater good. She knew of sacrifice.

She also knew of honoring those sacrifices.

“No.” answered Fury, briefly. “In military institutions, the only thing soldiers receive in exchange for laying down their lives is words of praise. We don’t do that.” he paused as Steph turned around, her fists curled to the sides of her body. “We accept you as sentient beings and offer a fair recompense for your sacrifice. We negotiate.”

The panther must have caught sight of his expression, because he sighed, shaking his head. “You don’t believe me?” he asked, shortly. “Then let me show you.”

“The past Incubators and Humans have in common.”

Stephanie felt a sharp pain behind her eyes, as if someone was pressing them against her skull. Her vision blurred, mixing everything together like dough, and her knees went butter under her. She pressed her eyelids tightly, trying to make it stop, and when she opened them again, she wasn’t in her room anymore.

It _felt_ like being in a Witch’s Labyrinth, albeit without the added weight of your senses deciding to turn against you. She felt her body going forward really fast, but there was no wind on her face – only forms and colors and strange objects dashing past her and getting lost as she kept going forward. 

_You know_ , she heard, suddenly, Fury’s voice echoing around her as if he was standing in the center of a dome, _our race has interacted with yours from pre-historic times._

Suddenly a new image flashed before her eyes. Stephanie startled, stepping back, tightening her arms around her torso. She could see the outline of pyramids in the distance, and a sunrise, and a young woman with long, straight black hair with her back to her. The girl stared with her mouth partly open, heart beating fast, trying to keep up with everything that she was seeing.

 _A countless number of young women firmed contracts with Incubators and had their wishes granted_ , said Fury, still in that eerie disembodied voice, as more images of the girl flash: sitting in a throne surrounded by people in Egyptian-looking robes, laying on the ground with two pierced, bleeding marks on her right arm. _And then finally fell into despair._

Stephanie covered her mouth with her hands, shivering and desperately trying to back away from the images – but they kept being hurled at her, like a slap across the face: another young girl with equally black and straight her, this time in what seemed to be a kimono, kneeling in front of a tiny altar. 

_Each time, what’s initially hope turns into desperation_ , whispered Fury, as the house the girl was in burst into flames, spreading through and entire village, rolls of black smoke twisting towards the sky. _That is the cycle every Magical Girl has gone through from the beginning of this system._

Steph’s nails dug into her face as new images flashed by: a girl in heavy armor, waving a flag in front of her enemies. A blonde woman kneeling and looking up, her hands pressed together in prayer. A fire rising around a teenager’s legs, a wooden cross pressed against her chest. _Some of them_ , informed the panther, as the girl stared with wide eyes, _changed the fate of humankind, guiding their societies to a new era._

 _“STOP IT.”_ gasped Stephanie, covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes as hard as she could. _“Stop it!”_ she sucked in a hard breath, shaking her head. “They all _believed_ you. They believed you, and you _killed_ to them! You _betrayed_ them!”

“We did not.” denied Fury, his voice now back to normal, coming from somewhere behind her. “Their own wishes turned against them.”

“Any wish that defies logic carries a risk, Stephanie.” he proceeded, as the girl bit her lip until it bled. “We can’t control in which way it’ll be fulfilled, or predict what the side-effects will be. It’s obvious that altering reality in such a daring manner would bring about unwanted conclusions.” 

There was a coppery taste in her mouth when the blood dripped between her lips. “If you think that’s unfair, than making wishes to begin with is a mistake.”

Stephanie clutched her ears more tightly as she heard a loud, swishing sound – and then everything suddenly went completely quiet once more. “But I’m not saying they shouldn’t have done it. Objectively speaking, it was their sacrifices that pushed humankind’s history forward.”

Stephanie opened her eyes very slowly, tentatively, unfurling herself. She was sitting in the floor of her bedroom, her back solid against the door, her knees stained where she’d pressed her lips against them without realizing. Her breathing was very, very hard, now. _Shit._ Scrambling to get up, she opened her purse, fumbling around until she found her inhaler. Breathing in slowly, she rubbed at her chest in circular motions, closing her eyes and trying to calm down. _God_ , if things kept going this way, the stress might actually kill her.

She waited for a moment, trying to determine if she’d have to call 911, but it subsided eventually. Stephanie let out a long sigh, drying her cheeks with the palms of her hands. 

“Better?” asked Fury, neutrally, still rooted to the same spot he’d been before.

“Do you care?” replied Steph, coldly, putting the inhaler back in an accessible place.

“You know, Stephanie” commented the panther, watching her calmly, “if you had been born in less favorable circumstances, it’s very likely you wouldn’t have survived so far.” He licked a paw, trying to keep the tone conversational. “It was the tragedy of all the people before us who laid out the basis for you to have a comfortable life. Knowing this, how could you put the value a single life above the value of everyone else’s?” 

“You could never understand it.” whispered the girl, walking past him to collect her pillow. “You just can’t get it. Don’t you feel _anything?_ Anything _at all?”_ she looked at the panther again, shaking her head. “How many girls did you contract with, Fury? And you _never_ felt anything? You never even _tried_ to?”

Fury shook his head, unfazed by it. “If we could comprehend it, we wouldn’t have needed to come here in the first place.” he pointed out, sensibly. “In our culture, what human beings call ‘emotion’ is but a mental disease. In fact,” his voice got the smallest inflection of curiosity. Stephanie couldn’t decide how much he was faking it. “We were really surprised to discover a race such as yours could co-exist with each other for so long.”

Stephanie put the pillow back in her bed, resisting the urge of tossing it at Fury again. “If only you _hadn’t_ come here…” she muttered, closing her eyes.

Even though Steph thought she’d spoken too low for him to hear, the panther interrupted her: “Likely,” he said, seriously, “you would still be living in caves.”

The girl stared at him from the corner of her eyes. She had only one wish. One chance to use magic, and the price was impossibly high. But what good did it do, anyway? If she used it to bring Tora, Peggy and Loki back, it didn’t change the fact they’d all be doomed into early death or into Witch-hood. There was nothing she could _do._

It was almost one o’clock when Stephanie, still wide-awake and rolling around in bed, began going through her messages, reading the last ones Tora had sent her. She was just about to close it, feeling exhaustion creeping in against her will, when she remembered, out of nowhere, she still had Toni’s number.

Maybe there was something she could do, after all.

.  
.  
.

Jean hang up the phone, stepping back into the kitchen. The girls, plus Nat, were gathered around the table, their mugs laying long forgotten and their expressions gloomy. Philly was staring at her hot chocolate as if possessed the secrets of the universe, looking the most stressed Jean had ever seen her. Brenna’s face was partially hidden because she was leaning on one hand, her head bowed as she stirred her tea. She’d been doing that for the last fifteen minutes.

Rubbing her neck, Jean sat down between Nathan and Quinn. The boy slipped their hands together under the table. “What did they say?” he asked, lowly, the very slight raspiness to his voice the only sign of having cried.

The girl shook her head, rubbing her eyes. “They got home safely.” she answered, feeling everyone’s staring at her. “And Steph went straight to her room.”

There was a collective sigh as all of them sagged at once. Quinn pulled her coat in tighter around her body, tucking her hands under her arms. “She’s been acting weird.” remarked the woman, darkly, her lips set in a thin line.

Philly nodded in agreement, deadly serious, her shoulders and neck completely stiff. “She’s been skittish, avoiding us, talking in whispers…” she recalled, shaking her head in utter disbelief. “And she was sleeping so little.”

“I don’t think she was sleeping _at all.”_ murmured Jean, feeling her heart twisting and bleeding. “This past week she’s been looking like she’s about to pass out _all the time.”_

Brenna sniffled quietly, passing a hand through her eyes before looking up at them. “Steph is hiding something from us.” she whispered, making eye contact with every one of them. “Isn’t she?”

They became silent again, no one wanting to acknowledge that particular truth. It was still snowing outside, and no one had remembered to turn on the kitchen light, throwing everything into shadows and pale reflections. Jean let out a deep sigh and took her hand away from Nat’s, digging them through her hair. “It’s my fault.” she choked out, eyes filling with tears again. “I _knew_ something was wrong. I _knew_ it, ever since she got sick that one time. She stopped _talking_ to me after that. She wouldn’t tell me anything anymore.” she sniffed, trying to keep from crying. “She stopped talking about that Peggy girl, and I thought she was having _relationship_ problems, and then…” the woman sobbed, grabbing her hair tighter, shaking her head. “It was my fault.”

“Stop that, Jean.” chastised Nathan, pulling her hand away and making her look at him. His eyes were insanely mesmerizing, but not even that helped right then. “It _wasn’t_ your fault. We should _all_ have seen it. And then, when James recovered, we completely forgot to pay attention to her. _You_ did nothing wrong.” he shook his head, looking very pale under his few freckles. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“But I’m her _sister.”_ insisted Jean, shaking her head. “I promised her parents I would watch out for her.”

“If we are using that as a parameter.” interrupted Philly, and her voice was hard, so cold it made the entire room flinch. “Then I am the only one here who should be held accountable. Because _I_ promised _Tora’s_ parents I would look out for _her.”_ she raised her eyes and stared at Jean. “And Tora is the one who _died.”_

The silence that followed was much colder than the previous one. Phillipa dropped her eyes again as Quinn watched her with a mix of hurt and worry. Her girlfriend’s hands were shaking, visibly sending out very strong “don’t touch me” warnings. Jean gulped, trying to swallow around her guilty, and reached out for Philly’s hand. The woman jerked back, but Jean was faster, and grabbed her hand hard, holding her back. “Philly.” she called, lowly, looking at her in the eyes. “Philly, look at me, please. I’m sorry.”

Her friend looked back at her, gulping hard. “I’m sorry.” she repeated, softly, squeezing a little. “You’re right. It was a stupid thing to say.”

Philly opened her mouth, closed it again, and her shoulders sagged. “I just…” she sighed, completely drained, staring at their hands with a lost gaze. “I told them I would keep her out of trouble.” she whispered, gulping, her lips completely pale. “Her parents were half-way across the country, and I was _responsible_ for her. I was supposed to take care of her.” she shook her head, at first slowly, and then faster as fresh tears rose to her throat. “How could I let her _die?”_

Quinn pulled her chair closer and gently collected Philly in her arms when the woman began crying. She cradled her, shushing and petting her hair with the saddest expression in her eyes. Jean pressed back against Nathan, her throat completely sore from crying. 

Stephanie was lying to them. She’d told Jean she was sleeping when the police called her, but she wasn’t wearing pajamas. Steph never slept in jeans. 

Jean could only think of one reason why her sister would lie about having been asleep – if she’d been making up an alibi. Whatever it was that had happened to Tora, whenever she’d been when she died, Steph _knew_ it. She knew what was going on, and she was lying to her family about it.

What if something terrible happened to her next?

.  
.  
. 

Stephanie was half-way through her first class when she decided she couldn’t put up with this any longer. Her classmates were giving her sideways looks, offering to carry her bags, going out of their ways to be nice to her. She appreciated it, really, but it only made Tora’s absence that much more obvious. No one had dared sitting on her empty seat, and the sight made her throat clog whenever she looked at it.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jones,” she called out, raising her hand and prying her eyes away from the unused chair, “but can I please be excused?”

The woman looked pained for a brief moment – real pain, that wasn’t pity or second-handed grief. Stephanie knew that, in this class, Ms. Jones was probably the person who most missed Tora besides her. She finally nodded, understanding, and Steph stuffed her books in her backpack, leaving the school fast enough to make her look guilty. No one questioned her.

She didn’t have enough money for a cab, and walking to Toni’s home in this cold would be a stupid idea, so she called her house, instead. 

Happy answered. 

Happy was absolutely willing to come pick her up at school, as a matter of fact. 

Because Stephanie was absolutely unused to limousines, she automatically slipped in the front seat when Happy arrived, without even waiting for him to turn around and open the door for her. The man stared at her looking mildly surprised and somewhat melancholic. The girl looked back at her hand on the handle and then at him, confused. “Did I do something?” she asked, apologetically.

“Oh.” he seemed to catch himself, shaking his head and turning back towards the wheel. “No, not at all.”

Steph put her belt on, watching him carefully. “Are you sure?” she insisted, wondering. There might’ve been a reason why Toni hadn’t called him to pick them up right after Peggy died. 

“Well,” the man smiled, politely, shaking his head. “It’s nothing important. I’m sure you don’t want to hear me rambling.”

The girl hesitated again, pondering. “About Toni?” she risked, quietly. Happy glanced at her.

“Miss Stark does that.” he told her, shortly, sounding strangely protective considering the formal speech. “She sits in the front seat. Used to do that to provoke Mr. Stark.” he smiled at this, shaking his head. “But now she just does.”

Stephanie examined him again, imagining a young Toni, before the car crash, before Fury, before seeing all this death and blood, doing petty, bratty stuff just to annoy her father. The thought was painful, like remembering her grandmother, the last grandparent she’d had, who died when Steph was seven years old. So she didn’t answer.

The way to Toni’s workshop was beginning to look familiar by now. Stephanie went down the steps swiftly, peeking through the glass doors. Sure enough, Toni was inside, hunched over what looked like a missile, huge protection goggles over her eyes and notes thrown all around her.

She tapped hard on the door. Toni froze, looking over her shoulder and raising the goggles. She stared for a long time, her expression blank. Just when Steph was beginning to think she’d leave her standing there, the girl pushed her chair away from the table, got up and crossed the distance towards the door. She opened it, one hand leaning against the frame and stared down some more at her, silently.

“Can I come in?” asked Stephanie, softly, rolling her shoulders.

Toni sighed and moved out of the way. She looked terrible.

Steph stepped around carefully, dropping her bag at an empty couch. The mess was even worse than last time she’d been here, which was saying something. A corner of the room was stuffed with maps of New York, schematics for guns, and screens displaying red circles, arrows and crosses, like a soccer diagram. The girl stepped closer, examining the images fixated to the walls. There was a lot of foreign text and pages ripped out of books with ancient illustrations.

“Is this the Walpurgis?” she asked Toni, without turning around, reaching out to touch one of the pages. It felt crunchy, like it was very old. The girl didn’t answer. “Fury told me about it.” pressed Stephanie, staring intently at the images. “He said you were working with Loki because you needed help defeating it.”

She picked up a satellite picture of Manhattan filled with calculations on the margins, and mentally mapped out important places: her house, the school, her parent’s house. “All of this…” she whispered, putting it down and walking towards the missile. “All this weapons, all of this technology, this is all because of that Witch, isn’t it?”

Toni still wasn’t answering. She could feel her behind her back, staring, but the girl didn’t move a muscle. “Will it destroy the town, Toni?” she asked, lowly, stopping in front of Yinsen’s portrait. “Physically?”

There was a pause, and then she heard the girl taking a breath. “The Walpurgis doesn’t need to conceal itself inside a barrier. When it hits, it’ll look like a natural disaster.” another brief pause. “Possibly a snow storm.”

Stephanie stared at the photo, at the smiley kid in crutches – what was her name again? She was sure it was the name of a city, but couldn’t seem to recall which. “So what you are saying,” she replied, quietly. “Is that it’ll kill a lot of people?”

Toni didn’t answer.

“And it has to be defeated right away, right?”

No answer.

“But now that Loki and Tora aren’t here…” she ran a finger over the portrait, “you are the only Magical Girl who’ll fight, aren’t you?”

Toni remained deadly silent.

“No one else will help you?” whispered Steph, crossing her arms.

“I don’t need any help.” replied the girl, dryly, snappish, almost threatening. “My family makes a very profitable living out of killing, Stephanie. We are experts in it – I can deal with the Walpurgis myself.”

The blonde sighed and rubbed her arms, trying to warm them. “You are lying.” she accused, without looking at her.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” sobbed Steph, surprising herself – she didn’t realize she was crying. She hugged herself tighter. “And it’s not the first time you’ve done it. You lied to me about Loki, you’ve been sneaking around everyone’s back about Fury and Magical Girls.” she shook her head, trying to stop the tears. “How could I believe you about this? I want to, Toni, I really do. But I _know_ you are lying.” she pushed the sleeves of her shirt down, using them to dry her eyes. “I just don’t know why you keep _doing_ this!”

The pause that followed felt tenser than before, like a bowstring about to snap. “You could never understand it, Steph.” finally replied Toni, and her voice trembled at the last words. 

“I _could_ , if you _explained_ it!” denied the girl, sucking a hard breath and clenching her hands into fists. Toni sucked in a sharp breath.

 _“You_ don’t understand _anything!”_ she sobbed, her voice raising several notes. Stephanie froze, trying to turn around, but Toni got to her first.

The girl threw her arms around her and hugged so tightly it squeezed the air out of Steph’s lungs, burying her face in her hair. Stephanie didn’t move an inch, feeling something wet and hot dripping down her nape. “To… Toni?” she called out, softly, hesitantly putting her hand over the girl’s. “Toni, what…?”

“You _can’t_ understand it, Cap.” wept Toni, her arms firmly around her waist, clinging strongly. “You just can’t understand how I feel at all.”

Stephanie kept staring ahead, shell-shocked. She had never seen Toni crying before, and especially not in this desolate, child-like way. Her voice was tiny, breaking every other word, and she was trembling, as if she fully expected Steph to shove her away at any moment. “Toni…?” she whispered, unsure, holding her hands tightly.

“You don’t even _remember_ us anymore.” sobbed Toni, more and more tears rolling into Steph’s hair. Her voice was painfully hopeless, as if she was dangerously close to finally stop trying, simply stop trying at all. It frightened Steph more than she could put into words.

The girl breathed very slowly, afraid to interrupt the moment, afraid to hurt Toni, and, most of all, afraid of the words she was hearing. “‘Us’?” she whispered, staring down with a thundering heart. “Toni, have we…” she wet her lips, a trace of a long forgotten dream clinging to her conscience stubbornly. “Have we ever met before?”

Wordlessly, Toni nodded against the back of her head.

Stephanie’s eyes stung and her throat became tighter. “When?” she murmured, as if it was a secret she should not be prying into.

Toni chuckled, a sad, ironic little sound. “In another timeline.” she replied, tightening her arms around the girl’s waist. “Steph, I’ve met you… _so many_ times before…” she whispered, her crying not silent, almost too low to be heard. “I’ve come back in time again and again, _just_ so I could protect you… just to keep you safe from Fury… but _every time…_ every time I come back to try and save you… I have to see you die all over again.” Her voice broke in the last phrase, her breath becoming raggedy, her body shaking violently. “I never manage to stop it!” she sobbed, digging her hands in her waist. 

“No matter _what I do…_ no matter what _I say…_ you _always_ contract, you never listen to me, and in the end, everything always goes to hell!” she chocked, shaking her head. “ I don’t know why I can’t _stop it!_ I’m _good_ at it… I really am… it’s just variables, right?” Toni laughed, a sob lost halfway through her lips. “I’m supposed to be good at it… but I can’t even keep Fury away from you.”

Stephanie could barely breath herself. What was Toni talking about? Dying? Steph had never died before in her entire life, thank you very much. All of this was absolutely impossible. None of it made any sense.

But then, why… why it somehow did?

Why did Toni always call her Steph, even when she was fire-spitting mad and they were arguing? Why did she try so hard to keep her from contracting? How did she know where Stephanie lived? Or about Jean’s silly nickname?

How come the girl had dreamed about Toni before they’d even met?

And then it clicked.

Steph gasped, horrified, covering her mouth with her hands. “The Magical Girls you saw die…” she whispered, tears overflowing from her eyes. “The ones you said you gave up on counting…” she grasped at her chest, feeling sick and dizzy. “You mean they were… Tora and…” she gulped. “Peggy… and… Loki… and…” her lips trembled at the thought, her voice refusing to come out. “And… and _me?”_

For an endless moment, Toni didn’t react: didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely breathed. But, finally, she nodded. Steph pushed in a breath so hard she just knew she was going to be sick. As if she had done it a thousand times, as if she’d known her for years, Toni pushed her down, getting her head between her knees, rubbing her back in a soothing manner. Stephanie’s stomach was turning violently, and she felt feverish. 

Toni’s hands were in her shoulders now, in her neck, rubbing in circular motions. It helped ease her back, make her heart stop beating so hard, her breath become a bit more even. The girl kneeled down in front of her, very slowly, her cheeks red and her eyelids still wet from tears. “It’s okay if you don’t understand it, Cap.” she whispered, her voice low and raw. “It’s okay if you don’t remember anything. But…” she choked, hesitated, maybe trying to strengthen her voice. “But _please,”_ she murmured, holding on to her shoulders. “Please, just let me protect you this time. If you contract again, everything I’ve done will be for _nothing._ ” She raised her voice a small bit, sounding more like the usual Toni. “I just can’t see you die again. I need to know you are safe. _Please.”_

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie raised her face and looked Toni in the eyes. God, she loved them so much. They were so _frustrating_ , and so beautiful and so fleeting. How could she deny Toni anything, anything at all in the world when she was looking at her like that? As if Steph was the last candle left burning in the middle of a black hole.

Slowly, feeling her neck stiff and her head still light, Stephanie agreed. “Okay,” she whispered, staring at the depths of the sea and seeing herself reflected back, “all right.”

The relief in Toni’s face hurt every bit as much as the tears had.

.  
.  
.

Being out in the streets of New York City just as a blizzard was about to hit, wearing a skirt and a short-sleeved blouse would probably be a really idiotic thing to do if Toni could feel the cold. Luckily, however, between her lack of soul and her vast collection of death memories, Toni did not, in fact, feel it.

She stood with her feet braced, her arms crossed, the wind howling in her ears, watching the horizon. Beneath her, people were stocking their homes, closing doors and shutters, phoning loved ones before the lines went dead. Many had left the city altogether. Stephanie was amongst those – safely surrounded by worried friends who would keep a keen eye on her. She was counting on Jean to be paranoid and overprotective. 

Toni sighed deeply. She’d told Stephanie more than she’d planned to. More than she should. But maybe this would finally work – maybe _this_ would keep Steph away once and for all. Maybe this would scare her enough to keep her safe until the Walpurgis was dealt with.

An icy wind rushed down on Manhattan, so sharp it almost cut through the buildings. Toni fisted her hands, her heart beginning to beat faster, adrenaline rushing into her veins. It was coming.

And she was going to end it – _once and for all._

.  
.  
.

Part of the reason why Jean and Stephanie were so close was because, growing up, Jean had spent more time at her friend’s house than she’d had in her own.

It was complicated business, and even after all those years, not something Jean discussed all that willingly with Steph. Her sister had been hanging around in her house before she’d even been born, and it was no surprise at all when she showed up at her doorstep, sleeping bag under one arm, pajamas and a toothbrush hastily tucked in a backpack, along with a package of donuts. Stephanie had already cleared out her room to make space for the girl.

Her father was still at work, finishing up on his paperwork, and her mother was going through wardrobes, digging out every last blanket they owned, even the itchy one. Everyone was settling down to wait on the storm, probably planning a lot of cuddling under blankets, hot chocolate and general laziness. Stephanie had no doubt her mother would cling to her the entire time, it being so soon after Tora’s death.

All she could think about was that Toni was outside. And she was not.

Fury had nestled by the fireplace, content to keep Stephanie company while a nightmarish Witch he’d created himself destroyed and hurt and possibly _killed_ the last person on Earth whom Steph could still talk to.

She had never felt like this before. She’d never had to lie and keep things from her family. She’d never felt there was anything she couldn’t tell them.

Stephanie looked up at the stairs, hearing Sarah humming softly as the woman went from room to room gathering covers and pillows. There had never been anything Steph couldn’t tell her before. There had never been any reason why she had to lie to her mom.

And even now, Steph realized there _still wasn’t_ any reason why she couldn’t go talk to her.

Getting up from the couch, the girl rushed upstairs, following after her mother when the woman entered her room. “Mom?” she called, softly, closing the door behind her. “Can I talk to you about something?”

.  
.  
.

The familiars always came first. A dark, twisted circus procession, with brightly colored look-alike animals and squeaking ragdolls running close to the ground. Being inside a Witch’s Labyrinths was terrible partly because the laws of physics went out of the window, and there was nothing to hold on to that your mind could fully comprehend. But in a way, seeing bits and pieces of the Walpurgis twisted magic walking in the middle of Manhattan felt worse for Toni. They did not _fit_ , and her eyes kept trying to pretend they didn’t see any of it.

Next to her, an elephant, in a blindly bright shade of green stomped at one of the squeaking ragdolls, squishing it with a sickening wet sound. Toni ignored it, walking past the nightmarish abominations without flinching, much too used to their fanfare and deformity. They weren’t important anyway. Just scarecrows to drive foolish Magical Girls away. 

The real thing was much bigger.

The Walpurgis floated above her, as big as a building, made of gears and royal dresses, like a cross between a courtesan, a machine and an evil sorceress. It laughed maniacally, every time, a loud, shrill, hysterical sound that made the girl’s flesh feel like pudding.

Toni touched the Arc Reactor absently, feeling its sharp edges and the biting cold of the metal. “This is the last time I’ll have to see you.” she whispered, eyes locked in the Witch, flexing her fingers. “I’m going to end this.”

She swiped her arm on front of her, and the missile-throwers fell as if from thin air, hitting the ground with loud _thumps_ , surrounding her like an army. She froze time, quieting the Walpurgis' laughter, and grabbed the nearest weapon, yanking it over her shoulder.

From then on, there was little human thought in her mind. The recoil making her arms hurt, calculations and angles and speed rushing about in her head, the sound and smell of explosions, was all that was left. She fired missiles, cannons, bombs and detonated an entire building on top of the Witch. The pounding of her feet echoed in the empty town. 

Toni run as fast as her feet would carry her, her vision tunneled, jumping swiftly on top of a truck and landing on the balls of her feet. She spread her palm against the roof of the cabin, and a faint blue light covered the vehicle, making it roar as it turned the ignition on. It shot forward, making the girl fall to one knee to keep her balance. The wheels screeched in the pavement as Toni sent it flying toward the Witch, jumping out in the last second.

The heat of the explosion nearly burnt her back as the girl used her magic to slow her fall, hitting the ground, rolling and getting up in one swift motion. She felt a rumbling under her feet and rose in the air again as the tank appeared under her, concealed by magic up until now. 

The Walpurgis turned to her, slowly, deliberately, still laughing, half-obscured by ash and smoke. Toni gritted her teeth and fired the canons, feeling the tank rumbling under her. The blast knocked the Witch backwards with the strength of an earthquake, making it crash to the ground violently.

The land mines exploded viciously, the sound and heat reaching Toni many yards away, making her skin itch and her eyes hurt. She stood, unmoving, watching the smoke and the fire rise from the pit, her eyes searching for any movement. 

There was no laughter anymore.

Some of the tension began bleeding away from Toni’s shoulders, some semblance of rational thought crippling back into her mind. Nothing could’ve survived so many direct hits. There was no way that thing was still alive. No way. No way…

A flash of light and motion burst into life brusquely, and Toni screamed when something hit her in the stomach, so hard it knocked her back several yards, making her slam in the pavement with enough strength to crack her ribs. The girl groaned as her next breath sent her insides twisting in agony, the skin in her belly raw and sensitive due to the heat. 

And the Walpurgis was _still laughing._

.  
.  
.

Stephanie stayed silent, watching her mother’s face, looking for any trace of anger, or disbelief, or fear. The woman was strikingly pale, and her hands were shaking slightly in her lap. She shook her head, running a hand over her hair and looked up at her daughter. “Why didn’t you tell us any of this, sweetie?”

Steph gulped, feeling small, cold, and really, really young. “I don’t know.” she admitted, and it was the truth. Back when she’d thought all of this was exciting, that it was good and magical and fulfilling, she hadn’t wanted to worry her parents. It was all new and full of possibilities, and she had still wanted to explore it.

But why hadn’t she come to her mother the minute Peggy had died? When she found out Fury was lying and tricking them, and when Tora was suddenly tangled up in this nightmare, why hadn’t they asked anyone for help? Maybe if she had, they could have helped them, helped Tora, helped Loki. Maybe they wouldn’t be dead. Maybe there was more she could’ve done.

“Oh, Stephanie.” sighed Sarah, reaching out and pulling her close. Steph let her, let her wrap her arms around her and smooth her hair away from her face. “And to think you’ve been dealing with it alone all this time.” Her mom kissed her forehead, squeezing her. “Thank you for telling me.”

The girl took a shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do, mom.” she admitted, biting her lips. “I’m so worried about her.”

“Antonia.” understood Sarah, looking out of the window, at the snow that fell steadily. “She’s out there fighting this… this…” she shook her head, obviously still rattled about the whole concept. “This _Witch…_ all by herself?”

Stephanie nodded, words failing her, pressing even closer to her mother. Sarah caressed her hair, thoughtful, and still very pale. “And do you think she can make it?” she asked, softly, worry showing in her voice.

The girl looked at the Incubator, sitting on the floor by the window, still invisible to her mother. He shook his head negatively, but Steph already knew that. “I don’t.” she confessed, looking down. “Not even Toni thinks she can do it, but she won’t _stop_. She’s so _stubborn_. She won’t listen to me, she won’t listen to anyone, and I’m afraid…” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes to keep from crying. “I’m afraid that if she stops, she won’t be able to keep going at all.”

Stephanie didn’t really understand what Toni was trying to tell her in her workshop, but her words rung inside her nonetheless, making her heart forget how to breath. She remembered Tora’s screams, her franticness, her desperation, and it all reminded her too much of Toni’s face, her voice when she told Steph she just _couldn’t see her die again._

If she tried to help her, if she contracted, it would kill the girl – but if she didn’t, Toni would lose to the Witch. There was no way to safe her. No way around Fury. Girl had been dying for centuries, millennia, before she and Toni had been born. If there was a way to cheat a Magical Girl’s fate – someone would have found it by now.

But they hadn’t.

“Honey.” called her mother, touching her face to make her look up. Sarah was staring at her intently, gently, and although her lips were trembling, her eyes were steady. “I can’t say I really understand all that you are telling me. Magic, monsters, aliens…” she shook her head, cradling her daughter’s cheek. “I don’t understand it, and I’m sorry that I can’t help you more than this.”

“But there’s something I understand better than anything else in the world.” she continued, pushing her hair away from her face. “And that is you, Stephanie. I know you far too well, and if I had been a little cleverer, I would’ve realized before…” she took a deep breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I would’ve realized you’d eventually run into something I couldn’t keep you safe from.”

“Mom, what are you talking about?” whispered Steph, feeling a bit afraid. She supposed you were never old enough to see your mother crying. 

“You told me that you have enough potential to make any wish in the world at all, didn’t you?” asked the woman, and the girl nodded, still confused. “Baby,” Sarah smiled sadly at her, looking heartbroken. “You already know what you are going to wish for.”

Stephanie stared at her for a couple more seconds, and then finally understood. A wave of sadness washed over her, deeper and broader than ever before, ingrained in her soul as she thought about it. She gulped, finding it hard to look at her mom, and impossible to look away. “I could wish for Tora to come back.” she whispered, almost a bargain.

“Yes.” agreed Sarah, softly, smiling very slightly.

“Or Peggy. Or Loki.” proceeded Steph, gulping, leaning forward. “Even grandma.”

“Yes.”

“I could wish that Toni wasn’t a Magical Girl anymore.”

“You could.”

“I could even wish the Incubators had never found us.”

“But you won’t.”

Stephanie sobbed, a few tears slipping down her cheek. “No,” she agreed, shaking her head only once. “I won’t.”

Sarah dried the tears with the back of her hand, then pulled her daughter closer, hugging her tightly. “I’m very, very proud of you, Stephanie.” the woman kissed her temple. “No matter what.”

“I know.” replied Steph, hugging her back and breathing her scent in deeply. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, honey.” whispered Sarah, kissing her again and gently prying away from her arms. “Go grab your coat. I’ll drive you.” she told her, patting her hip to get her going.

Steph sprung to her feet, allowing Fury to climb on her shoulders before opening the door. Jean was standing on the other side of it, her eyes red, her face set in hard lines, and her lips pressed together. The girl sighed, stepping forward, quietly. “You heard it?” she asked, barely above a murmur.

Jean nodded, looking at her as if she was seeing her for the first time. “Yeah,” her sister agreed, biting her lip and smiling weakly. “But I always knew you had a hero complex.” she laughed, crossing her arms as if she felt cold. “So no surprise there.”

Stephanie laughed too, almost apologetically, not sure of what to do. “Captain America, huh?” she murmured, shyly, dropping her eyes.

Jean shook her head. “Nah.” she disagreed, weakly. “Stephanie Rogers.”

Steph raised her eyes again, a thousand apologies stuck in her throat, but the expression in her sister’s face silenced them all. Jean gulped, her eyes red, puffy and wet, and reached out abruptly, hugging the girl to her chest too hard and too fast. Stephanie hugged back, burying her face on her shoulder, remembering when she was little enough that Jean used to awkwardly carry her and drop her on the couch, making her bounce and giggle until her belly hurt. “Take care of them for me, okay?” whispered the girl, quietly, squeezing the woman’s waist. “All of them.”

Jean sniffled, her chin resting on top of Steph’s head. “Take care of them yourself.” she replied, trying to sound angry. “You little punk.”

Stephanie laughed, stepping back gently. “Jerk.” she replied, with no real heat behind it. Her sister dried the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“Well?” said the woman, gesturing impatiently to the stairs. “Are you going or not?” 

Steph pressed her lips together and nodded once, shortly, dryly, looking Jean in the eyes. She went on tiptoe, kissed her cheek loudly, then dashed downstairs, grabbing her coat on the way. Her mother was already pulling her seatbelt on when Stephanie got into the passenger seat and slammed the door closed.

The snowstorm was picking up strength. 

.  
.  
.

Toni leapt from a building to another, frantically trying to keep up with the Walpurgis even as it blew freezing gusts of wind against her. The Witch was heading towards Brooklyn, as if it was purposefully trying to target Stephanie, and the girl fired desperately at the Witch’s familiars attacking her, even as her ribs screamed in protest.

 _I have to stop her_ , thought Toni, frantically, sweat dripping down her back. _I have to stop her now!_

Buildings got tore off the ground at the Witch’s wake, bursting into fire spontaneously, the flames violently bright. The girl dodged, her muscles aching at every abrupt turn, twisting and swirling, her head swimming as it lost track of what was up and what was down.

_I have to stop it now!_

She halted abruptly, as five stores worth of concrete and glass were hurled towards her. Toni raised her arm, ready to freeze time long enough to go around it, and the small gleam in the inside of her glove made her choke, her heart stopping painfully inside her chest. The liquid was gone, little more than a few drops left.

Toni looked ahead and got hit by the still-burning building, crushed under thousands of pounds of debris.

It felt like an eternity had passed when she regained consciousness again. Her head was throbbing like the damned, blood sticking her curls to her forehead and dripping down her noose and jaw. She tried moving, but her ribs hurt so badly her mind went blank. She had definitely broken a leg by the look of it. And an arm, by the _feel_ of it. Her mouth tasted metallic because of the blood. 

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t use magic. She couldn’t fight anymore. 

And she was afraid.

It was odd: of everything Toni had ever thought would destroy her, she’d never considered fear. She had seen Loki giving up, Peggy going mad and Tora despairing so many times she’d lost count, and maybe she’d always thought she’d go down the same road. Out of desperation, or loneliness, or crippling sadness. In the end, though, it was the fear that finally grabbed her by the throat.

She was so afraid of dying here.

She was afraid of failing. Of having done it so many times, wasted away repeating her life obsessively, letting people she once loved die and be killed, all for _nothing_. Of having worked herself to her very core only to see Stephanie giving up for good. Of having done nothing with her life, nothing that made any difference, nothing to justify having lived through when her parents had died.

The Walpurgis was still laughing, delighted by Toni’s pathetic excuse of an existence.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, her fingers shaking violently, Toni touched the control mechanism in her hand, but her arm froze before she could remember why this was a bad idea.

If she went back again – if she repeated it once more… she’d be making Stephanie more powerful, putting her into greater danger, making a mess out of everything. Going back wasn’t an option anymore. Staying wasn’t an option. Everyone that had ever gotten too close to her died. She had destroyed Stephanie’s life, killed her best friend _and_ the girl she loved, and broke her heart cruelly in the process.

She had done all of that for her. 

It hadn’t been worth it. 

A sob broke through her chest, sending everything hurting like the deepest layer of hell. The light in her chest was getting darker, slowly shifting from dark blue to pure black. Her body was useless and now her Soul was dying, and there was nothing Toni could do about it. She couldn’t defeat the Walpurgis. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t save Stephanie.

Toni closed her eyes tightly and the sobs kept coming, dry, tearing her apart, taking over her as the last bit of her strength bled through her fingers and dissipated into nothingness. 

“Toni. Please stop that.”

She felt someone’s hands holding her own, hot and slick against her cold fingers, squeezing it. Her eyes flew open, wildly, and fell upon a face that was frighteningly familiar. “Steph.” she gasped, scrambling to get up.

The girl held her down promptly, little force behind it. “Don’t move. It’s okay.” she shushed, pulling her hair away from her face. “It’ll be all right, Toni. You already did enough. You did _more_ than enough.” she smiled at her, soft, soothing, reassuring. “You should rest for now.”

“What are you doing here?” whispered Toni, tiredly, trying to keep her eyes open. “Are you hurt?” she asked, more urgently, noticing the blood on her palms.

Steph frowned, seeming confused, then looked down at her own hands. “Oh, that.” she shook her head dismissively, brushing it off on her pants. “The streets were blocked. I had to come running.” A faint smile ghosted over her lips. “Obstacles and all. You can _imagine_ how well that went.”

Toni wasn’t fooled by her smile, or by the ease tone in her voice. “But why are you here?” she insisted, trying to ignore the way Steph’s fingers were caressing her scalp, mindfully avoiding her injuries. The girl’s hair was plastered to her face, which was covered with sooth already, as was the rest of her. Her jeans were torn and coated with melted, dirty snow mixed with blood where she’d scratched herself. She looked to be more or less in one piece, but Toni had known her for long enough to recognize she’d been crying.

A slight movement caught the edge of her eye, making her head turn. Fury was peeking from behind Steph, nearly invisible against his surroundings, his eyes examining the dark glow that shone in her chest. 

Toni felt ice seeping into her bones. “You _wouldn’t_ have.” she pleaded, looking back at Stephanie, exhausted and furious and terrified all at once.

Steph smiled at her, apologetically, a faint blush rising to her cheek. It was the exact same expression she’d had on her face the day they met, and then when she’d pressed Loki’s Grief Seed against her Soul Gem. The one that said she was sorry for having lied, but already knew Toni would forgive her anyway. Carefully not to hurt her, Stephanie put her hand back down, bracing one knee on the floor as she began getting up and stepping away.

Toni stared at her feeling numb, cold and very, very much dead. Steph’s smile frayed a bit at the edges, and she turned her head to stare at the Walpurgis, still alive, laughing hysterically, and destroying everything in her path.

When the girl turned back to look at her, it was only to deliver a short sentence, shyly, almost embarrassedly:

“I’m sorry, Toni.”


	13. "The Most Important Thing"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: depictions of various deaths, in varying degrees of tragicness.

The Witch made Stephanie feel sad. Not frightened, angry or sick, like Witches had made her feel before. Just sad.

Toni was looking back at her with blurred eyes, blood sticking to her skin everywhere, and an utter miserable expression. It hurt – it really did. For a moment, all she wanted to do was take care of the girl, hug her until it all stopped being so terrible, just make it all stop. But she had something to do, and it was for Toni’s sake as much as it was for everybody else’s. “I’m sorry, Toni.” she repeated, softly, feeling Fury’s weight against her leg. “But I’m going to make a contract.”

The girl’s breathe quickened, although Steph couldn’t be sure if it was fear, rage, or if she was simply going into shock. “No.” moaned Toni, struggling through gritted teeth to get up. “No, Steph, you can’t. _You ca…”_ she yelped excruciatingly, falling back and clutching her side, her face pale with the pain.

“Toni.” whispered Stephanie, crouching back down and holding her shoulders. “Please stay down. It’s _all right.”_ she cupped the girl’s chin, moving her head to force her to look her in the eyes. “I think I understand it now, only a little bit. I’ve found a wish that I want to fulfill. Even if I have to pay my life for it.”

“You don’t, you _don’t_ understand at all.” protested Toni, holding her hand and digging her nails in. “If you did, you wouldn’t throw yourself away like that. You wouldn’t do that. Then what was all _that I did_ for?” Stephanie’s palm hurt, a sharp sting where she’d scratched it. She doubted the girl realized she was hurting her.

The air felt very heavy. Steph kneeled, leaning closer to Toni, holding her face with both hands, wiping her tears away. “I’m not.” she whispered, gently, looking her in the eyes. “I promise you I’m not, Toni.” the girl raised her eyes, lips pursed, looking terribly betrayed. “I won’t ever disregard my own life like that. I’ll never do that again.”

Toni gulped, not looking entirely convinced, but more willing to hear it out. Stephanie lowered her voice, their foreheads almost touching, never looking away. “Everything you did for me,” she whispered, trying to sooth her. “All those times you protected me, and saved me, and took care of me. I won’t let them go to waste.” She paused, giving her a sterner look. “And there were those other times when you are a complete _jerk_ , but those I’m willing to oversee.” 

That managed to pry a chuckle out of Toni, even if it clearly hurt a lot to laugh. She looked uncertain, now, searching for answers in Stephanie’s face. “I owe you very much.” whispered the blonde, honestly. “You were the one who got me here, Toni. But do me one last favor. Will you trust me to make this right?” 

Toni hesitated, obviously wanting to argue, to insist, to fight about it if she had to, but at last her muscles sagged, losing all intent. She nodded. “Don’t get almost killed, all right?” she whispered, hoarsely.

Stephanie leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, very gently pressing them together. “I won’t.” she replied, pulling away. Toni lingered for a second more, her nails still digging into her palm, then finally let her arm fall.

Fury was watching them silently, sitting on a relatively plane surface, his eyes shining subtly. “Are you ready to make your wish?” he questioned, a resemblance of solemnity in his voice. “Stephanie Rogers. With your power, you may decide the fate of not only your entire race, but of your entire home planet. The fates of many parallel universes rests solely on your shoulders, now.” He examined her, letting the words sink in. “No matter how impossible your wish is, it’s most likely you’ll be able to achieve it.”

Stephanie stared at him expressionless. It didn’t feel real, thinking that kind of power had been inside herself this whole time – magic enough to change an entire universe. Maybe magic enough to rewrite human history.

But it wasn’t the cards you were dealt. It was how you played them. “No matter how impossible, right?” she murmured, feeling the tip of her fingertips prickling.

Fury nodded, shortly, never taking his eyes off her. “Well, then. What shall your wish be? What do you desire so much that you would pay for with your own soul?”

Stephanie let out a deep breath, stepping forward to face him, planting her feet hard on the ground. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Her breath was caught in her lungs. The weight of her decision settled hard in her stomach, and there was still a little voice at the back of her mind that whispered incessantly for her to stop.

Stephanie Roger was no super heroine. She might not be special. She might not have any particular talents. But as of right now, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

“I wish” said the girl, pressing a hand over her heart and squaring her shoulders the way Quinn had thought her, “I wish to erase every single Witch from existence before they are born.”

“Every single Witch, from every single universe, past, present and future.” The words stung as they left her lips, her blood ponding in her ears and a searing heat blooming in her chest. “I wish to do it with my own two hands.”

The heat grew, impossibly bright, impossibly alive, engulfing her whole body and shining from behind her eyelids. Steph let out the breath she’d been holding, feeling the warmth spreading from under her fingers, the power pumping through her veins like adrenaline and burning her skin on its way out.

It had always belonged to her. And now she could finally control it.

“You cannot wish for that!” gasped Fury, almost as if he was afraid, his voice rising in what could’ve been panicking in anyone else. “If that wish is fulfilled, it would completely overpower the limits of time-space! It’s a treason against the wish _itself!”_

The panther stepped back, hitting the edge of his seat, his small body tensing and tightening as if he was about to pounce. “Do you really wish to become a god?” he whispered, as if delivering her death sentence.

The glow, soft blue, warm and insistent, kept spreading across her body like wildfire. It began hurting, as if it was trying to pull something from her, dig it out from where it was buried very, very deeply. And yet Stephanie did not try to fight it – she let it consume her, growing from the inside out, filling her eyes, her mouth, creeping inside her heart until it dashed outward with each beating. “I don’t care what I’ll become.” she replied, the light slipping from under her skin and flowing around her.

It almost felt alive.

Stephanie took a deep breath, closing her eyes, not wanting to look at Fury as the words left her. “I don’t want for all those girls to stop believing in miracles. I don’t want for them to lose their hope. I don’t want for it to end like that, as if it never meant anything, as if they weren’t important at all.” She gulped, grasping the fabric over her heart, feeling the pain grow and burry itself deeper inside her heart. “I want to give them a choice. I want to give them a _chance.”_

She opened her eyes again, staring down at Fury even as her vision became hazy, so blue it almost looked white. “I want for them to still be able to smile until the _very last second_ , and I won’t let _anyone_ tell them that their wishes didn’t matter!” The girl raised her voice, screaming now as the light grasped her soul with its sharp claws, digging its blades into the core and prying it away from her chest. “If there are rules that’ll stop me, I’ll change them. I’ll destroy them. That is my wish. That is my prayer.”

The blue glow ripped her soul from her heart and exploded in a thousand tiny specters, engulfing her body to its very last cell. “Fulfill it, Incubator!”

Her Soul Gem glistened softly for a single second, innocent-looking, sky blue and glimmering like clear water. Then, the light washed over them like a wave, expanding outwards and sweeping the city, the bursting of a new star.

.  
.  
.

Outside, night had already settled over the city, and the snow was falling steadily, snowflakes dancing on the wind and making everything appear white and fuzzy. It was quiet, too quiet for a city as big as NY, but that didn’t bother Stephanie. Right now, the silence was welcomed.

The fire cracked next to her, bathing the room in warm orange light, making the little shadows at the corners dance. The smell of cake and coffee and hot cocoa filled the entire house, white vapor rising from their cups as the wiped cream melted.

Looking more serene than Steph remembered her ever being, Peggy kept her eyes on the cake, cutting it in even slices, except for the last one who came out particularly big. She passed the plates around, her gaze soft and a small leaf stuck in her hair. Handing Steph a bowl with little marshmallows in it, she sat back next to her, crossing her legs. The girl was wearing a fuzzy Christmas sweater, complete with snowflakes and clashing colors, and worn-down, well-loved jeans. 

She looked strikingly beautiful. “I missed you.” murmured Stephanie, fondly brushing the flour form her curls.

Peggy smiled at her, holding her hand and pressing it briefly to her cheek. “Well, you’ve kept yourself busy while I was away.” she remarked, half-amused, half-cross, raising one eyebrow at her.

Stephanie chuckled, embarrassed, and put some marshmallows in the hot chocolate. Peggy took a hearty bite out of the cake, letting the silence outstretch for a little while more. “Do you realize how frightening your wish is, Steph?” she asked, softly, her brown eyes digging deeply into hers.

The girl nodded, a reassuring smile in her face. “I do understand it, Peggy.”

The brunette bit her lips, still looking worried, resting her fork on her plate. “You’ll have to face every single Witch to ever exist, you know. It might very well go on forever.” she reached out and took Steph’s hand, squeezing it under the table. “Can you really be sure you won’t forget yourself?”

Stephanie’s heart hurt in a good way hearing her talk like this. She intertwined her fingers, wondering how could she have forgotten the way being with her made everything feel right in the world. “I’ll be okay, Peggy,” soothed the girl, lowering her voice, leaning towards her.

Peggy didn’t seem entirely convinced, but there was trust in her words nevertheless. “But how can you know?” she insisted, examining her face. “Forever is a very long time to fight alone.”

Stephanie smiled, feeling the cocoa warming her from the inside out. “I won’t be alone at all.” she disagreed, shaking her head cheerfully. “I was never alone to being with. The girls at home, my family, you – I’ve always had people supporting me and believing in me. Even if it feels that way, I know I’ll never be really alone.”

Peggy’s eyes were shining gently, maybe covered with a thin layer of tears. She nodded, the smile never leaving her lips, understanding coloring her features. She seemed happy, relaxed, even if there was sadness around the edges.

“Is that why you wished to do it by yourself?” interrupted a new voice, making Steph jump and turn around, startled. She had completely forgotten they weren’t alone.

Loki’s lips twitched, as if she was trying to hold back laughter – she seemed incredibly amused by their lovebird act. Her green eyes were clear and sparkling with mischief, as if she was only waiting for people to turn around before making them terribly embarrassed in front of the whole class. Stephanie decided she looked much more her own age when her bones weren’t showing and she wore clothes her own size.

 _“Loki.”_ chastised Tora, bugged, sighing dramatically and putting her fork down. “You shouldn’t interrupt other people’s excessively romantic staring so brusquely.”

Loki raised her eyes at her sister, one eyebrow twitching ironically. She was resting against Tora, the older girl’s arm thrown over her shoulder, equilibrating her extra-large piece of cake in her lap. The two of them seemed perfectly content in cuddling, sharing one blanket, even though they were the closest to the fire. “You may lecture me on good manners when you learn not to speak with your mouth full, sister.” replied the young girl, coolly, slumping further on the couch so her head was resting against Tora’s shoulder.

Tora turned a vivid shade of red and immediately closed her mouth, swallowing the cake she’d been eating. Stephanie chuckled, turning towards them without letting go of Peggy’s hand. Loki’s gaze was only slightly guarded, her curiosity getting the best out of her. “Well?” she insisted, embarrassedly dropping her eyes. “Was it?”

“Did you wish to fight them yourself so they wouldn’t be alone, either?”

Tora’s eyes were on her now, too. Her friend was resting her cheek against the top of Loki’s head, mindful not to mess up the intricate braid that run down the girl’s shoulder. She could still convey confidence just looking at you right. Smiling, Stephanie looked back at the brunette. “I couldn’t do it any other way.” she explained, unhurriedly.

“If I didn’t do it myself, I wouldn’t be respecting their wishes and how much they had to fight for them. I want them to know that they matter.” Loki glanced up at her without raising her head, coyly. “Even if everything goes wrong, their wishes still matter.”

Tora smiled at her, squeezing Loki’s shoulder and bringing her closer. “Stop _squishing_ me.” complained the younger girl, elbowing her with no real force behind it, and making no effort to pull away. Steph smiled at them.

“You know,” interjected Piper, thoughtfully, making everyone turn to look at her. She was resting her face against one hand, looking up at the ceiling, tapping her spoon against her chin. “I think I kinda get what you mean. It’s better if you think you did your best for something important, than think you’ve been chasing your own tail for nothing. Something like that?”

Loki laughed, fondly smiling at her friend. “Someone’s getting poetic.” she teased, loading the irony heavily.

“Ah, shut up.” replied the girl, rolling her eyes at her light-heartedly. “You’re the biggest drama queen of the _century._ I’ve got nothing on you.”

“But that is the way I think about it.” interrupted Steph, before they could begin bickering. “If someone tells me it’s wrong to have hope, I’ll tell them they are wrong, every time. I don’t mind having to do it forever.” She smiled impishly, looking back at Tora. “I’ve always had the most stubborn friends, anyway.”

Piper snorted, licking her hot-chocolate mustache. “Dude, if you think Tora is stubborn you haven’t met Loki.” She stated, making an extravagant face that made Peggy chuckle.

“If you think I am stubborn,” replied Loki, completely calm, stealing cake from Tora’s plate. “You obviously forgot what aunt May is like.”

Piper reddened, opening her mouth to reply and obviously coming up short. Loki smiled smugly, blowing her a kiss. “You two are missing the entire point,” remarked Tora, shaking her head at them. “Stephanie is _obviously_ the most stubborn of us all.”

Peggy chuckled again, putting her now empty mug down. “I don’t know.” she mused, pleasantly, looking at Steph with a soft gleam to her eyes. “Toni would be a tough contender.”

Stephanie felt her face heat up, and a nudge of discomfort hitting her between her ribs. She could tell by the girl’s face she knew what was up, but it was a conversation she was reluctant to have, anyway. It seemed she hadn’t gotten any better at dating these past few weeks. “She _is_ pretty stubborn.” Agreed the blond, awkwardly playing with a cookie left in her plate.

Peggy simply smiled. Her eyes looked sadder now, nostalgic, a bit wondering. “I take it we won’t be going dancing after all?” she asked, understanding, maybe trying to help Steph spit it out.

“I still want to go out dancing.” disagreed Stephanie, squeezing her hand. “But maybe…” she stopped, biting her lip, watching their intertwined fingers. “But maybe not in a _date_ , date?” she added, apologetically.

Peggy rolled her eyes at her. “Stop mopping.” she told her, sternly, only a small hint of humor in her voice. “I would _love_ to go out dancing as a _not_ date, date. But you may not bring Toni.”

Stephanie laughed, pulling her hair behind her ear and nodding. Piper and Loki had, after all, begun bickering, and were throwing witty remarks across the table with gusto. Tora was watching them, seeming completely placid and content, her back resting against the couch, her legs outstretched in the carpet. Loki’s fingers were laced with hers. Piper was playing with the strings in her hoodie, all the while holding back laugher and only half-managing it.

Peggy was watching them, too, her expression not unlike a big sister watching her kid siblings play. She was resting her chin against her hand, the other caressing Steph’s palm absently, a distracted smile playing at her lips. “You are not only granting us hope,” she whispered, her tone soft as if delivering a secret, looking back at the girl. “You are becoming Hope itself.”

“Hope for all of us.”

.  
.  
.

The light was so strong, for a moment Toni was sure she had gone blind – it engulfed them, throwing off every shadow until everything took on an eerie flat appearance. The girl tried to shield her eyes with her arm, frantically searching for Stephanie inside the beacon, but the glow made it nearly impossible to even open her eyelids. She firmed a hand on the ground, trying to push herself up, but her arm wouldn’t sustain her weight.

Just as Toni was about to call out for her, the light subdued, collapsing in itself until a sole blue pillar stood ahead of her, undulating sleepily around Stephanie’s body. 

Toni stared at her, at a complete loss for words: Steph was standing a few inches above ground, still looking small and thin in her Magical Girl uniform. Her hair was billowing softly as if she was underwater, her ponytail tied with her blue ribbon and her mask covering half her face, letting only her eyes show through – sharp determination carved in every inch of her irises. She looked powerful, graceful, and ready to kick some serious butt.

Toni held her breath, not knowing if she was hallucinating due to blood loss, or if Stephanie could possibly, really, truly be _glowing._

Light still clinging to her skin, the sheer intensity of it making her form sway and glimmer like an illusion in the desert, Stephanie stepped forward, pulling her shield out of her arm. As Toni watched in stunned awe, the girl bent her knees, every last muscle of her body set on this one task, and threw the shield upwards with the strength of a bullet. It skyrocketed towards the grey clouds, so high it became invisible. 

The Walpurgis was coming towards them, her laugh strikingly high in the sudden silence, but Stephanie made no move to face her, instead staring at the sky as if waiting for a falling star. Toni looked up, too.

And there _was_ a falling star. And another one. And another one. And _another_ one, until all of a sudden the cover of clouds was blasted away, the wind picking up and blowing Toni’s hair on her face as the sudden sunlight made her squint harder.

Falling stars were raining across the sky.

There were so many of them, for long moments their brilliance outshined the sun. They disappeared in the horizon, one after another, shooting just beneath the clouds with life of their own. Toni watched them, her mouth falling open, her heart beating in excitement it hadn’t felt in forever, the sun’s warmth touching her face gently.

And Toni could call it for what it really was – even though she didn’t understand what was happening, or how it was even possible at all, she understood Stephanie. And she knew what her best friend had just done.

It was a miracle. 

The girl dropped her eyes from the sky, searching for the brightest blue light – still fluctuating inside it, looking up at the falling starts, Stephanie looked more beautiful than ever.

And she was smiling.

.  
.  
.

Not a single Magical Girl Wish was the same as the other. That was the first thing she learned. 

Stephanie would know. She met every single one of them at their most vulnerable moment – right before their Soul Gems hatched into Grief Seeds.

Some of them had known what was happening, with varying degrees of awareness and understanding. Some of them were afraid, clutching their darkened Soul Gems so hard their knuckles became white. Stephanie remembered purple lips, shivering from the cold so violently they could barely draw a breath anymore. She remembered red eyes, the ones who stared, afraid of blinking, afraid of closing and never opening again, and the ones who were squeezed tight, praying this would all be over soon.

She remembered the girls who curled into themselves, alone, in a shadowy corner where no one noticed them, and the ones who forced last words through empty lungs, words that were heard by other Magical Girls, or by loved ones, or by no one at all, no matter how loud they shouted. She could recall the fear, different and the same in everyone, that made their Soul Gems break faster, even as they spent their last breaths fighting, ignoring the bleeding in their hands.

She could still see the girl whose contract saved her step-mother and the little sister she never lived to see – lying on the grass, too drained to make the smallest motion, with green eyes the color of moss and pigtails she was just beginning to outgrow. Stephanie remembered the way she looked at her Soul Gem as it began to crack, terrified beyond speech, afraid to cry because it could speed up the process, all the while desperately wishing she wouldn’t hurt the baby when she didn’t know any better.

The girl didn’t have the energy to be surprised when the shooting star fell seemingly out of nowhere, but when she caught sight of Stephanie, her eyes sparkled very faintly, a bare last whisper of hope. Steph kneeled carefully by her side, grasping the hand that held her corrupted Soul Gem. The green-eyed girl followed her movements, staring at the Gem with a silent plea. Steph smiled at her and closed their hands around it, taking away the grief until the green shone through bright, clean and pure again.

The smaller girl wept, relief and gratitude flooding her features as her fingers let go of her Soul Gem, allowing it to quietly disappear. She closed her eyes, the air in her lungs leaving her as gently as if she was falling asleep.

_You don’t need to be afraid anymore._

_You don’t need to be sad anymore._

She remembered the girls who had been angry when time finally run up. The ones who gritted their teeth to the very last second and refused to give IC the satisfaction of screaming. The ones who were still walking, and fighting every last step of the way, even as the pain devoured them from the inside out. Steph remembered when they did scream, when they stopped fighting because, who cared anyway? Who cared it they became Witches and cursed everyone they met in their path? Who said this world deserved any salvation? Who said they didn’t _want_ to be Witches?

And there were girls who did not believe, not even as they lost feeling on their limbs and their vision became dark – who couldn’t believe that they would ever become that which they had been fighting with everything they had. There were girls who only cried out of fury. There were girl who didn’t cry at all, who didn’t even try to resist once darkness swept their Soul Gems. 

And, many, many more of them – there were girls who did not even know what was happening until it was too late.

There was that girl with brown skin and a birth mark shaped like a tiny flower, who had just wanted to find her way home, and who’d curled under a tree, hugging herself and trembling, even though it was the hottest day of the year. Her fingers were digging in her arms and she was biting her lips to keep from crying and attracting attention. Her Soul Gem felt unbearably heavy, casting dark shadows in her face, and she just wanted for it to _end._

At first, she thought the shooting star was a hallucination, but then the Magical Girl was suddenly there, and she blinked against the sun, mouth hanging open. Stephanie gently pried her fingers away from her arm, letting the dark glow of her Gem shine unobstructed. The girl’s eyes were wild and panicky, and she stared up in a slightly frightened haze, lips pale and trembling because of the pain.

Steph laced their fingers together and let their hands rest on top of the Soul Gem. She could almost feel the relief running through the other girl’s body. Her eyes lost their sharp edge, and her head fell back against the ground, a smile crossing her lips before her Gem disappeared painlessly.

_I won’t let your wishes turn into curses._

The girl who had contracted for themselves – who had made wishes for someone else they loved – who’d saved their people in exchange for their whole life, and even the ones who had been lied to, who had wished for things too small or too big. 

So very few of them had gone away peacefully – so very few had closed their eyes with no regrets. So very few it was almost none at all. But Stephanie wanted to change that. She _did change_ that.

She led them through.

_Every last one of your wishes mattered. Your life mattered. You don’t have to regret it._

The ones who had contracted in the past, millions of girls, each of their hopes changing the world a little bit each time, paving the way to those who would still contract, and to other millions of prayers and fights in the future.

_You don’t have to torment anyone. You don’t have to curse anyone._

_You don’t have to keep paying for your wishes anymore._

Uncountable Soul Gems that held as much potential as they held achievements – and Stephanie purified every single one, to the last of them, taking always the impurities until only silence remained.

She led them through with her. Not alone anymore. And with no regrets.

_I’ll bear that burden for you. I’ll take that despair away. So, please…_

Loki looked up at her, surprise and the tinniest hint of recognition crossing her eyes, fogged with exhaustion as they were. A few tears were rolling down her cheek and threatening to fall down, some of them getting lost in her lips. Smiling reassuringly and kneeling in front of her, Stephanie covered the girl’s Soul Gem with her hands, and a single drop fell on her fingers, rolling down her arm.

Loki gulped, looking from Stephanie to her Gem. The darkness was being washed away, the bright green glow showing through as it had before. A sigh left the small girl’s lips, something that would’ve been laughter if she had any strength left in her body.

Steph’s smile grew, lingering half a second more than she should, only to watch when Loki’s eyes closed heavily, and she finally fell asleep.

_Believe in yourselves until the very end._

.  
.  
.

The Walpurgis hadn’t stopped at the shower of stars, and it seemed as if it wouldn’t stop for anything. But now Stephanie could see what had really happened to that Witch – could see the faces of all the young girls who had gambled their souls when no other option was left, standing alone against creatures they couldn’t really understand, for the sake of only one wish. She could see them as their Souls were about to break, their bodies failing them and their hopes crushed beyond repair.

“It’s okay.” whispered Stephanie, stepping towards her, the raw power of her contract still surrounding her like tongues of fire. “It’s okay, now.” she soothed, outstretching one hand as the Witch laughed, and laughed and laughed. “You don’t have to hate anyone anymore. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

Before her eyes, the Walpurgis began to slow down, almost imperceptible, her body flickering and becoming see-through around the edges. The girl stood, unbothered by light, wind and laughter, hovering many feet above the ground – she spoke in hushed whispers, her voice carrying through magic, loud enough to be heard by every Magical Girl to ever be.

“It’s all over now.” She murmured, blue eyes understanding and calming. “I’ll stop you before it comes to this.” 

The Witch stopped mid-air as its body began to fall apart, pieces and bits breaking loose, her laughter dying off slowly as if every single sound was painful. Stephanie stepped forward again, feeling many, many cries of despair pressing against her ears. She smiled, reaching out nevertheless, offering her hand as her shield hung on her other arm. “I won’t let any of this happen to you.”

The Witch’s laughter quieted down, leaving the world in paralyzed, stunning silence. Time held its breath, stopping its wheels mid-turn, as reality came crashing in on itself, destroyed and unsupported by a broken logic. Thousands of years of paradoxes ripped through the fabric of space-time, falling one after another and bringing the whole universe down.

Stephanie held on to the last Magical Girls’ Soul Gems, her fingertips drawing out the remaining corruption, until the only Witch left in the world was wiped clean from existence. Once and for all. 

.  
.  
.

The first thing Toni noticed when she awoke, was that nothing hurt.

She noticed it even before she opened her eyes – her ribs, her arm, her head, nothing was hurting anymore. Nothing seemed out of place, broken, or bleeding. Nothing felt particularly bad at all. She wasn’t even feeling hungry. 

The second thing she noticed was that it was dark. So she opened her eyes. 

And everything was black.

She sat up, her heart beating madly in her throat, looking around her as if afraid of what she would see.

For as far as her eyes could reach, there was nothing _at all_ surrounding her. To every direction she looked, the world was pitch-black, not the slightest shape or color disturbing the horizon. Toni blinked furiously, her mind trying to process what she was seeing with little success. It couldn’t have been simply _dark_ – she could still see herself. But there was nothing else that could reflect light. And where _was_ the light coming from? What had happened? Where was she?

Where was Stephanie?

 _It seems Stephanie’s wish had some unexpected consequences,_ remarked a casual voice, making Toni jump and reach out for her gun. It wasn’t there – only her and her Magical Girl uniform. Not even the Arc Reactor was there anymore. _The space-time is being reorganized according to her new laws._

“Fury?” called Toni, frowning, trying to spot him. “Where are you? Where are _we?”_ she bit her lips, thinking of his words.

They made sense. God, now that her head wasn’t clogged by blood loss, pain and a decaying Soul, Toni could recall Stephanie’s wish, and feel tendrils of red-hot panic sneaking under her skin. What had Steph been _thinking?_ She could not alter such a huge part of Earth’s history without pulling out the very roots of their reality. She was destroying logic by destroying Witches. What would happen to their universe once its bases were impossibly twisted into not making any sense? 

What would happen to _them?_ Toni let out a rickety breath, stopping her hands from shaking and looking around once more, the blood pounding on her ears. “If the space-time is being re-written… how come I am here?” she whispered, mostly to herself, trying to make sense of the situation. She wasn’t actually expecting for Fury to answer.

 _You are a Time-Traveler_ , he replied, making Toni’s head snap again, looking for the Incubator. _Your magic was directly responsible for enabling Stephanie’s wish. It must have allowed you to transcend space-time._ He paused as the girl’s head swirled with horror, just thinking of how badly she might have screwed up. _So, shall we watch it together? What were the consequences of Stephanie Roger’s wish?_

Dots of light flickered all around her, colors and shapes flashing back into existence against a dark background. Toni turned around, her breath freezing in her lungs – those were stars. More than that, those were _Earth’s_ stars, the constellations she was familiar with that were impossible to recognize from this angle – and yet, she knew what they were. She knew because she could see it from here. Her planet.

And just about to crash against it, at least twice its diameter, a long tail rustling behind it, an angry swirl of darkness and light was heading towards Earth. Toni frowned, eyes running feverishly over the shapeless giant, trying to place it with an impeding sense of dread. Was that… that couldn’t be…

 _That’s the Soul Gem that was created by Stephanie’s wish_. Whispered Fury, making Toni’s heart drop in her chest and her skin go cold. The pale blue light she recognized was there – but it was tainted by big chunks of corruption, like a polluted river running furiously down a slope. And it was _huge_ , bigger than her eyes could properly understand. It was much more than Toni could ever, possibly stop. 

There was no way she could save Stephanie from this.

 _It’s not assured whether or not the amount of grief she has to withstand will overpower the amount of hope she created_. Mused Fury, as Toni watched in silent, crippling horror the trajectory of Steph’s Soul Gem, running the numbers in her head and knowing either way it didn’t matter. _Enough Hope to create a whole new universe, also means enough Despair to destroy an entire universe._

And then she would’ve done all of this only to destroy it? thought Toni, shaking her head in denial. This was catastrophic, it was apocalyptic, and it was just… it was just too much for her to handle.

_Will you trust me to make this right?_

She gulped, hugging herself, watching in tight stillness Stephanie’s Soul Gem heading for their planet. 

The darkness staining the blue began growing, pulsing, spreading across the Gem like an infectious disease. Toni bit her lips, her nails digging in her elbows, terror freezing her in place as the corruption took over the blue entirely, and the huge mass exploded in waves of dark smoke. 

_“STEPHANIE!”_ screamed Toni, her feet still locked in place, little drops of blood dripping from her arms. Her breath was coming in shallow and fast, as she watched the smoke twist, coil and take form, a gigantic Witch bigger than Earth itself.

A Witch strong enough to destroy the entire Universe. 

Despair washed over her like cold water. _“STEPHANIE!”_ she cried out again, shaking her head, feeling her head spin. _“STEPHANIE!”_

 _I’m listening,_ whispered an amused voice in her ears, making Toni gasp and cover them in wonder. _You really don’t have to shout._

Toni laughed, a bubbly, shaky sound that just barely left her lips. “Cap?” she called out, unsure, looking over her shoulder. The Witch was still there, looming over their planet, as twisted and deformed as any other she had ever faced before.

 _It’s still me_ , murmured Stephanie, and Toni felt a faint, almost feather-like pressure to her shoulders, a brief heat against her neck. _And everything is okay, Toni._

A speck of light pierced through the sickening smoke, growing larger and stronger and brighter by the second. Toni held her breath, praying between her teeth, Steph’s voice still ringing in her ears. The small speck burst, light flooding the universe like a second sun.

It was Stephanie – and Toni’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest with relief at seeing her – but it was her as she remembered from the day they first met. The way she had been after making a wish, taller, stronger, and so completely filled with confidence it showed through her skin. Light was clinging to her body as if she was dressed in it, blue and white trimmed in gold, her hair flowing around her face, and hers shoulders set straight.

The most powerful Magical Girl to ever exist.

 _My wish was to stop every Witch before they were born_. Said Stephanie, and her voice carried as if it was reverberating throughout the entire galaxy. The girl faced her own Witch, shield ready in her left arm, her gaze never wavering. _If that wish is fulfilled_ , she whispered, stepping back, her body taking the familiar lines that Toni knew so well from so many fights. _I have no reason to feel despair!_

The shield dashed through space, a new shower of stars raining across Earth, piercing through the smoke like hot blades through molten iron, and falling upon the Witch mercilessly. The light grew so bright and so hot Toni had to close her eyes, stepping back to try and escape the heat. There were explosions, shaking the space-time, that the girl could feel like an earthquake, making her loose her footing – a wave of magic rolled over her, knocking her down and burning her skin. Toni screamed, covering her face with her arms, and everything went white.

.  
.  
.

The first memories Stephanie saw were the ones she would be losing.

She could still recall them, much more vividly than before, experiencing new memories that she couldn’t have remembered on her own – she could even see her mother walking back and forth in the living room, as her baby-self wailed and Sarah cooed at her, her expression exhausted but blissful. Her mom, her dad, Jean, the girls. Even Tora. Stephanie had been prepared to lose them, had known it was a risk she’d be taking by making her wish.

At least, this way, they wouldn’t be hurt by her leaving. She could be grateful for that. She was grateful for that. And she stored all the memories of a life that did not exist anymore, guarding them near her heart, as closely as possible. When Jean didn’t remember playing ball with her in the street, when Philly and Quinn couldn’t recall ever knowing her or when Tora wouldn’t think of them as best friends anymore – Stephanie wanted to keep those memories safe. Even if they had never happened.

She had been prepared for the memories she’d lose.

She had not been prepared for the memories she’d win.

Because Toni – Toni was _everywhere_. And now that she _remembered her_ , Stephanie could see so _much more_. Right past the girl’s façade, past her bigger-than-life persona or her emotional detachment, past her lies and avoidance, and actually see what she had been trying to tell her all this time.

Apparently, Tora wasn’t the only stupid one in their circle of friends. It had taken Stephanie the rewrite of the entire universe for her to finally understand.

But now she did.

.  
.  
.

When Toni was four or five, she fell off the stairs.

It had been just a matter of time until it happened, truth be told – she was much too fond of sliding down the banister, yelling _“BAZUUUCA!”_ all the way down, then running upstairs again in her socks while the poor new nanny chased after her, about to dissolve into tears.

When she finally slipped on her way back up and hit her head, no one was surprised. 

The woman in charge of her at the time was one of the most level-headed. She promptly scooped the little girl up, pressed her apron to her bleeding forehead, called for her mother and run to dial emergency. Toni suspected she’d been in shock at the time, as she kept staring, puzzled, at the blood dripping in her pants, blinking in very slight annoyance when it got into her eyes. Weird, she’d thought, unresponsive and noodle-limbed as the nanny handled her over to Maria and Toni got shaken around on the way to the front door.

“Mom,” she’d told the woman, in a quizzical tone, blinking her eyes sluggishly. “I think I’m bleeding.”

Maria, still pretty young and not losing it for a very thin thread, had begun crying, which had confused the girl. Why was her mom crying? The nanny soothed her, and Toni touched the blood on her cheek, examining it curiously. 

There had been no concussion, but she’d had to be stitched – Toni didn’t react to the anesthesia or the stitches, simply sitting there feeling curious about the whole ordeal and worried that Maria wouldn’t stop sniffling and hugging her. It wasn’t until later, when they were home, and her mother was taking her clothes off to give her a bath, that the girl saw herself in the mirror.

Seeing the injury had made her break into hysterical wailing, nearly scaring her mother into an early heart attack. For reasons that escaped her understanding, she’d begun sobbing “I cracked my head! I broke it! It’s _broken!”_ so loudly half the house staff came to see what was going on.

Maria had tried nearly everything to make her calm down, but in the end, Toni still made her stay awake late for nearly a week, begging for her mom to stay with her at night to make sure her head wouldn’t “stop working” while she slept. Howard had been less than pleased.

Her mother wasn’t very good at putting illogical, hysterical, frightened little girls to sleep – she’d spent most of the time awkwardly patting Toni’s hair, avoiding the stitches as best as she could.

Toni remembered this because she was a hundred percent sure that was why she had developed that shameful cat-complex about people messing with her hair or patting her head. It was really embarrassing. She had never told anyone about it.

That was why, at first, the girl thought karma had finally caught up to her, and she was very much dead. However, if this was what being dead felt like, she wouldn’t mind it one bit – she felt warm, cozy and comfortable, in that way that only came with sneaking back into the hot covers after venturing in the bathroom on a cold night. Her head was cushioned in someone’s lap, and she could swear no pillow had ever felt more comfortable. There was nothing much in her mind, no excessive light in her eyes, and no sirens blasting in her ears. 

But, by far, the best part of it all were the fingers in her hair, gently brushing it back from her forehead, running lovingly through it, caressing her neck in circular motions. It felt so good, Toni wanted to cry. “I love you.” she moaned, thoughtlessly, to whomever owned that hand.

She felt the person’s tummy reverberating, and the puff of air that came with the amused laugher. “I think it’s time for you to wake up.” informed a voice, the sound of it sending waves of pure lazy bliss down her body.

“Dun’ wanna.” mumbled Tony, rolling on her side and burying her face in the girl’s lap. “I’m never moving from this spot.”

The laughter came again, but this time there was a tingle of sadness creeping into it, making something resonate deep within her. “Toni,” whispered the voice, gently, but firmly. “You need to wake up, now.”

She opened her eyes.

And she remembered.

“Ste---“ Her voice died in her throat. She sat up with burning urgency, panic burning through her veins faster than light, every last of her molecules _yearning_ to see the girl’s face.

Stephanie smiled at her, beautiful, every last bit as beautiful as she had been when Toni saw her resurrected by the first time. She was in her Magical Girl outfit, but the helmet was missing, and the girl’s blue eyes were happy, clear and calm. Her Soul Gem glistened peacefully on her neck.

Alive. Alive. _Alive._

“Ste…” her voice broke again, fading in her throat as relief pushed its way up. Toni threw her arms around the girl’s neck, digging her fingernails in, wanting to climb inside her skin and never let her go again.

Stephanie hugged her back, clinging even more tightly, her arms in Toni’s waist and her face buried in her hair. Their legs got tangled, and Toni ended up in Steph’s lap, holding on for dear life, trembling from grasping so hard. The blonde’s hands were against her back, pulling her in so close it hurt, and then her lips were on her temple, pressing next to her ear. “It’s okay.” whispered the girl, soothing, her voice low, familiar and reassuring. “It’s all over now, Toni. You did it. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Toni was suddenly and violently possessed by equal urges of punching her, bursting into tears and lecturing her until Stephanie’s ears bled. Her body felt like pudding, the relief painfully overwhelming, numbing everything else – she had never been so frightened in her entire life, and that was saying _something_. Right now, the girl suspected that as long as their skin was touching, there would be no space left in her mind for anything but her. And yet, she could barely stand the thought of moving away.

Steph was still saying something in a low voice, some sweet reassurance, and Toni’s willpower dissolved. She curled against her, allowing herself to forget about everything else and pressed her lips to the blonde’s neck, where she could feel her pulse. Stephanie held her as if afraid she would try to leave, their faces always close and her voice carrying a strangely familiar melody.

“Next time you tell me to trust you,” warned Toni, when she finally regained some semblance of reason. “I’m going to break your _nose.”_

Stephanie laughed, making the brunette shake along with her. She was leaning against Steph’s chest, and the girl held her weight easily, her chin resting on top of her head. “You wouldn’t break my nose. You like my face too much.” she replied, almost smugly, amusement in her voice.

“I can’t guarantee it.” disagreed Toni, ill-tempered, snuggling closer to her, if that was possible. “Would you _please_ stop going and pulling this _stupid_ suicidal stunts without _telling me first?”_

Stephanie chuckled, a tearfulness behind it that unsettled Toni – it felt out of place, and disturbingly familiar. “I’m sorry. My fault.” whispered the blonde, apologetically, shifting to accommodate her better. “I should’ve talked to you, first.”

Toni let out a long breath, incapable of being pissed at her right now, even though she knew she should. She pushed away slowly, finally taking the time to look around – Steph released her, helping her to her feet, a hand lingering at the small of her back. Their surroundings were mildly dark, but a soft path of milky light was passing underneath them, illuminating vague shapes in the distance, and many pale twinkling colors. 

Toni looked up at Stephanie again, once more taller than her, examining her face. Her eyes made the girl feel anxious, as if there was something she was missing, something she was failing to grasp. Steph seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

Toni shook her head. “You rewrote the _entire universe.”_ she told her friend, exasperated, afraid, putting pieces together in her mind.

Stephanie nodded, looking embarrassed, and maddeningly calm about the whole thing. “I did.”

The girl closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. “And what happened _to you?_ ”

Gently, Steph reached out and held her hands, pressing her thumbs against her palm. “I wished to keep Witches from being born.” she whispered, softly, looking her in the eyes. “Every Witch, in every time, in every world. I got my wish. But…” she smiled, reassuringly, squeezing her hands tighter. “I couldn’t do it the way I was before.”

Toni gulped, feeling the girl’s body heat where they were touching, the air flow when she breathed in and out, and wondering if any of it was even real. “Please don’t tell me you ascended to a higher plane of existence.” she managed to force out, tightly, already seeing the answer in her eyes.

“Toni…” began Steph, earnestly, leaning forward.

 _“Don’t.”_ interrupted Toni, closing her eyes again and shaking her head very slowly, hating herself for understanding what it meant.

Being pulled out of the world, out of the very fabric of reality – having never been born, never existed at all, never left a single impression in the world. All of her memories, all of the memories anyone ever had of her, everything gone, no proof left behind she had ever been a human being.

Just a concept. A goddess. 

“That’s _worse_ than you being _dead!”_ hissed Toni, tears of fury rising to her eyes. “Why would you _do that?!_ You _told me_ you _wouldn’t_ do this kind of shit!” she struggled, trying to make Steph let go of her hands, but she held on. _“Let go of me!”_

“Toni, it’s not like that!” insisted Stephanie, releasing her hands, but holding her face instead. Toni looked up at her with the nastiest look she could conjure. “It’s not like that,” repeated the girl, lowly, gently drying her tears. “This is _okay.”_

“How can it be okay?!” she demanded, breathing hard. “You being _alone_ , you being _erased?_ I didn’t want any of this to happen!”

“But I’m _not_ alone, Toni.” protested Steph, smiling, stepping closer. “Don’t you realize? Now that I’m this way, I can see _everything_. I can see all the worlds that were before and even the ones that still could be.” She took a deep breath, dropping her eyes with a deep breath. “I can still see everyone, and all the Magical Girls – everyone who ever contracted, Toni. None of us is alone anymore.”

“My wish was fulfilled. I made my own choice. And I’m _happy_ about it.”

Toni breathed deeply too, her body sagging again against her will, looking away from her. She was so _glad_ she was alive, and so _furious_ at her at the same time. Stephanie had saved millions, _billions_ of girls from dying horrible deaths – she had saved Loki, something Toni had never managed to do. Her best friend, the girl she loved, had become a goddess in everything but name – all of that on her own free will and on her own terms.

If that’s what Stephanie wanted, Toni _would_ be happy for her.

But accepting this now would be the same thing as losing her all over again. She had lost Steph in so many different ways, so many times up until now – what was but one more? Except that she could never stand losing her to begin with. She couldn’t give up on Stephanie. After everything she’d been through?

She couldn’t live without her. 

Stephanie held her chin, distracting her from her thoughts, and pulled her face up, forcing her to make eye contact again.

The girl’s eyes made Toni’s heart stop beating – Steph was looking at her as if she was the most wonderful thing in the entire universe, awe shining behind her irises, her face delivering such utter adoration it rattled the girl to the core. Old feelings started bubbling up in her chest, resurfacing from so deep inside, she had thought them all gone. 

That rush of joy that run down her spine whenever she caught sight of Stephanie. The fluttering in her chest, so extremely annoying and hard to control, that happened when they touched. The ridiculous giddiness, the anticipation, the nervous sweat when Steph looked at her a second too long. That pleasant blooming heat that made her ears go pink (she hated that about them).

Ah. She had forgotten what it felt like.

She loved Stephanie so _much_ , someday, she knew she’d die of it.

Toni gulped, feeling the tip of her fingers tingling, her head going light, and Stephanie was still looking at her in _that_ way. The way she had looked after explaining to Toni why she and Peggy weren’t dating. The way she used to when she still loved her.

Except a thousand times more intense.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered, her mind completely failing her. It didn’t make any sense. Why would Steph ever love her again when she had no idea…?

“Toni,” replied Stephanie, slowly, cupping her cheek. “I _remember_ you.”

Her voice knocked Toni’s knees from under her. The only reason she didn’t fall over were the girl’s hands, promptly grabbing her elbows and steadying her. “ _Everything?”_ she gasped, not daring to believe it.

Stephanie agreed, nodding, her lips pressed as if she was keeping from crying, a finger trailing over Toni’s lips. “Toni, I…” Steph gulped, her thumb brushing back and forth and sending waves of heat down the smaller girl’s body. 

“You?” repeated Toni, trying to wrestle her hope down, keep it from skyrocketing as it wanted to.

Steph chuckled, disbelieving, saking her head at her. “I can’t _believe_ I didn’t see it before.” she whispered, looking at her in a dreamy, intoxicated sort of way. “Everything you did… how hard you’ve been fighting and for _so long_ , and after all the times I _hurt you_ , even after everything that happened…” the girl passed a hand through her eyes, chuckling. “You were right. I didn’t understand anything. I can’t believe that you were _there_ all this time and I…”

Stephanie’s eyes were burying into hers, for the first time actually _seeing her_ after so long, and Toni’s head was spinning from longing. “How could I not realize it before?” whispered the girl, her gaze burning and her eyelids dropping. There were tears in her cheeks. “Toni, you are…” she gulped, raising her eyes again, her lips trembling ever so slightly. “You are the _love of my life.”_

Toni held her breathe, the words travelling impossibly slow, refusing to make sense for an agonizing moment. And then…

She lunged forward, her hands grasping Stephanie’s face and pulling her down – the girl grabbed her hips and pulled her up at the same time, and suddenly they were kissing, kissing like there would be no tomorrow and it was pure, concentrated _bliss._

Stephanie was holding on to her desperately, one hand on her back, the other arm around her hips, pushing her up, pulling her closer and pressing their lips together hotly. Toni wrapped her arms around her neck, burying her hands in her hair, sliding her mouth against hers, moaning at the back of her throat when the kiss deepened. Steph’s teeth scratched against her bottom lip, biting it teasingly, and her hands slipped under Toni’s shirt, looking for exposed skin.

It felt as if Steph was trying to devour her from the inside out, steal her breath, steal her very soul, and Toni’s body melted under her in agreement, in complete surrender.

She could barely reciprocate it, feeling her knees steadily losing force under her, holding on to Stephanie’s shoulders as the girl kissed her senseless, and the world’s axis shifted back into the right position. “I love you.” panted the girl, when they finally had to draw back for breath. “I love you. I love you so fucking much. I don’t think I’ve ever…” Stephanie interrupted her, going in for another kiss, and Toni forgot what she was talking about for a long, lazy minute. 

“I never…” she tried again, even though it was so hard to keep away from her, from the way she could see a faint line of blue through her half-closed eyelids. “Never loved anyone… as much as I love you.”

“I know.” murmured Steph, kissing down her neck, one hand sliding down her leg. “I know. Toni, you are the _most...”_ her next words got lost in the curve of Toni’s jaw, right under her ear, disconnect whispers that the girl barely heard, too distracted by the truly obscene things her friend was doing to her skin.

“Wait, wait, stop…” the brunette pressed the heels of her hands against the taller girl’s shoulder, pulling back. “I need to breath, I can’t… I can’t think.”

Stephanie pulled back, her lips resting against hers, touching very lightly. They were both panting, fingers digging into their skin, foreheads pressed close. “I’m sorry it took me so long to understand.” whispered the blonde, her words breathy and low, looking at her apologetically from under her eyelids.

Toni shook her head, closing her eyes. “I always knew you were a bit dense.” she teased, making Stephanie chuckle. She smiled too, rolling her eyes at her as ironically as she could. “You idiot. I didn’t do it to get you to madly fall in love with me. I did it because…” she stopped, biting her lips, realizing she might not actually want to discuss it with her.

But Steph was looking at her expectantly, and lying to her, even keeping things from her, had never become any easier. Toni sighed, defeated, and let her forehead fall against the blonde’s chin, touching her Soul Gem with the tip of her fingers. “I did it because…” she murmured, wincing internally at the flash of bad memories that rushed through her brain. “I did it because… to me, anyway… you were the most important thing in the entire world.” The girl smiled derogatorily, and Stephanie’s lips pressed to her temple again. “I’m selfish that way.”

“Oh, shut up.” mumbled Stephanie, squeezing her tighter, and Toni laughed, immediately recognizing the girl’s embarrassed tone of voice. 

She let a few moments pass by silently, tucked against Steph’s body, the girl’s arms safely around her, forgetting about everything else. Toni let it linger for as long as she could possibly justify it, before her questions caught up to her, and she begun getting restless again, anxiety spiking up on her belly.

“What happens, now?” she whispered, drawing back just enough to look Stephanie in the eyes. “Are you _really_ going to be fine, Cap?” she looked at her hard, locking their eyes together. “You are not trying to spare me?”

Stephanie shook her head, denying it. She looked happy – happy, and confident, and peaceful. Seeing that look on her face was slowly unknotting the tension coiled in her body. “Everyone I love is happy, Toni. I get to see them, and I do get to be with them. Just… a little differently.” She kissed her forehead, then her eyes, and her lips again. “I’ll be just great, and I owe it all to you. You were the one who gave me strength, you know? I couldn’t have done it alone.”

Toni pressed her head under her chin, letting Stephanie wrap her arms around her again. “But when I go back…” she gulped, gritting her teeth. “Everyone will have forgotten about you. What about me, then? I can’t just… go back to before I met you, Steph. I can’t forget you. I don’t _want_ to.”

Toni felt when the girl let go of her with one arm, shifting her gently, so she drew away, frowning. Stephanie was smiling, pulling her blue ribbon from her hair, which spilled over her shoulders in full blonde waves. “You won’t forget about me.” she replied, opening one of her hands and pressing the ribbon against it. “You’ve been fighting for me for so long, Toni. It isn’t too late for another miracle.” she kissed the girl’s knuckles, closing her fingers around the object. “Would you believe in me just one more time?”

“I _warned you_ I was going to break your nose.” mumbled Toni, bringing her hand close to her chest and making Stephanie chuckle. “But will I ever _see_ you again?”

The girl nodded, making a few more curls fall over her forehead. “I promise we’ll meet again, Toni.” she whispered, holding her hand with both of hers. “I _promise_ it.”

“Don’t you _dare_ leave me waiting forever.” threatened Toni, gulping hard to stop the tears from coming. “It took you long enough to even tell me you loved me.”

“I know.” agreed Steph, and the look in her face was unbearably _adorable_ , as if they were just a regular couple having regular quarrels about regular problems. “I promise you I won’t.”

“And don’t leave me to my own devices either, understand?” pressed on Toni, putting on a serious expression. “You saw what happens when you do. It isn’t pretty.”

Stephanie laughed, rolling her eyes at her dramatically. “I think you did just fine.” she protested, and Toni could feel reluctance creeping in her eyes. She couldn’t blame her – she didn’t want to let go, either.

"I love you.” she told Steph, knowing these words didn’t come near to covering it. Steph smiled at her, tears rising to her eyes.

“I love you, too.” she whispered, bending down to kiss her again. 

The kiss this time was slow, and very long, and searing hot as they tried to memorize each fraction of sensation, touch, smell and sound. Their hands slid down backs and arms touching skin and clothing, grasping, pulling, caressing. Stephanie wrapped her arms around Toni’s waist and lifted her off her feet, trailing kisses down her throat and making the girl begin giggling.

“This feels so much better when none of us is dying.” secreted Toni, making Steph begin giggling too, until they were both laughing so hard they were crying. “I’ll wait for you.” whispered the girl, when her feet touched the ground again, opening her eyes to stare at Stephanie’s blue ones. “When I go back, I won’t forget you. And I’ll wait for you.” She took a breath, pressing her lips together. “I promise.”

Stephanie nodded, making as if to step back, and smiled a bit more brightly. “I know you won’t.” she whispered, her voice becoming fainter by the second. The brunette felt the weight of her arms lifting from her waist, felt the heat fading away and the skin under her fingers disappearing steadily. “We’re Magical Girls, remember?”

“We are the ones who create miracles.”

.  
.  
.

.  
.  
.

.  
.  
.

Toni opened her eyes, blinking to make the image come into focus.

It took her a long moment to understand she was staring at her own ceiling, from her bedroom, in her house at New York. She blinked again, taking an even longer moment to remember why she was awake at all. Her sheets were tangled around her legs. Soft, grey light slipped through the windows, and not a single sound broke the silence. Slowly, trying to stiff a long yawn, Toni shifted around to look at her bedside clock. It would still be an hour before she had to get up.

Carefully, feeling much too tired for someone who had just woken up, Toni lifted her hands, spreading them at arm’s length, with the palms facing down. Even more carefully, she turned them the other way.

There was no Soul Gem mark in her fingernail. Her Soul Gem itself was nowhere to be seen.

Had any of that ever really happened? Who could tell it either way? There was not a single proof left behind that Stephanie had ever existed. No magic that could attest it. No memory in anyone’s mind. Just Toni, regular, orphaned, with heart conditions and questionable mental health and a fantastic history, but no proof.

As far as anyone was concerned, it could all have been a dream.

Toni let her arms fall again, unwilling to move a single muscle. Absently, she felt something rub against her fingers – something soft and warmer than her skin, the texture different from her covers. Frowning, the girl turned her head to the right, lifting her arm again to examine it.

There was a blue ribbon wrapped around her right pinky.

It hadn’t been a dream at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JesusLordandSavior, someone hold me. This chapter was... difficult... to write. I'm still not 100% sure with it, but one time or another, we have to stop tickering with our work.
> 
> Sigh.
> 
> Just the epilogue left, now. Such an emotional ride!


	14. "To Keep on Fighting"

 

It was days like these that made Toni wonder who would be the first person to kill her from stress. If she had known there would be so many contestants to that particular achievement, she’d have thought more carefully about her life choices.

Right now, by far, Erika was skyrocketing in the charts, threatening to make Toni’s pressure go through the roof. One of these days, she _would_ end up killing her: she was just not equipped to deal with Erika. Loki had been a predicted, familiar hazard – Toni had known very well where she was getting into. Pepper had been a considerably bigger surprise, but even then, the girl hadn’t walked in expecting peace and tranquility. 

Erika, though? Erika had been completely unexpected, a new variable Toni hadn’t predicted. And she could be absolutely _infuriating._

“Listen, I _get_ what you mean,” she said on the phone, pressing it between her left shoulder and her ear while she walked briskly and tried finishing her email to Pepper without zooning out and running into a lamp post. “But I really don’t see what you want me to do about it.”

 _“We need more help, Stark. It isn’t that complicated.”_ replied Erika’s voice, a familiar German accent and a remarkably dry irony. _“Everyone old enough to be useful is living at Shield. Send someone over.”_

“You two don’t have _that_ many rookies.” insisted Toni, stopping briefly to check the street before crossing. “Isn’t Raven helping out?”

 _“Raven_ is _a rookie.”_ replied the older girl, sounding like she thought the brunette was a complete idiot. _“I don’t know where you get the idea me and Charlie are baby-sitters, Stark, but we are not. If you push one more godforsaken kid into this house…”_

“I thought you _liked_ kids!” protested Toni, changing her bags from one hand to another.  She _hated_ when Happy took his days out on her turn to go shopping. She suspected he did it on purpose – he was being influenced by his new evil girlfriend. She just _knew it._ “And most of them aren’t that even young, anyway. I mean, what’s the medium age over there? Above thirteen? Raven is thirteen and you like her.”

“Charlie _likes kids. She was the one who had this blasted idea of training new contractees to begin with.”_ disagreed Erika, terribly bad tempered, and, of course, lying through her teeth. “ _And Raven is my sister-in-law. I_ have _to like her.”_

Toni rolled her eyes. She wondered who Erika thought she was putting this façade for – no one was fooled in the least, except, maybe, for the newcomers. For about the first three months. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” she sighed, scrolling down her mail to make sure she’d sent Pepper everything she’d been meaning to. The woman was an evil genius. Using Happy to force her to work. Plain. _Evil._ “ _Fine,_ if it’ll take you off my back, I’ll ask Piper if she minds.”

_“No.”_

“What?”

 _“No.”_ repeated Erika, and the amount of murderous intent she managed to put in a single syllable would never cease to impress the younger girl. _“It’s almost cute you think you can push Parker on me, Stark. Try again.”_

Toni groaned, pulling her shades down as the sun reappeared in all its hellish glory from behind the clouds. “I don’t fucking know, Lehnsherr _, who_ do you want? Loki?”

 _“So I can get yet_ another _seven year old trailing on her ankles?”_ deadpanned the woman, as if the prospect was no more appealing than putting leeches on her legs. _“Thank you, but no.”_

“Your loss.” muttered the girl, trying to jiggle the groceries for long enough to tie her hair. Yuma might be seven, but she was talented, and they never got lost with her around, bless her magical orientation powers. “Who, them?”

“I want Samantha.” replied Erika, and Toni could picture her as the words rolled through the phone: she would probably be leaning on hers and Charlies’ pristine clean kitchen counter, wearing fitting jeans and a tasteful, very expensive long-sleeved shirt, even though it was hot like the souls of the damned outside.

If nothing else could be said for her, at least Erika was, for sure, one classy motherfucker. And she was gorgeous, even if you factored in her terrible attitude problem. Toni would bet half her fortune Charlie had some sort of bad girl fetish. “Sam? Sam Wilson? Really?” replied the girl, frowning, trying to step around a cluster of slow people. “You two ever had a conversation that lasted for more than five minutes?”

 _“She’s competent, over eighteen, and_ doesn’t talk all the time.”explained the woman, in the most suave voice a human being could hope to produce. So Toni would be lying if she said it wasn’t sexy, but Erika didn’t need to know it.

“What does Charlie have to say about it?” asked the girl, instead, wondering why she wasn’t the one calling in the first place. Everyone who’d ever met the two of them knew nothing got done if they were left responsible for it.

There was a two-second delay before Erika answered. _“Charlie likes everyone. It won’t be an issue.”_

“Ohhhhh, _boy.”_ whistled Toni, opening a large and malicious smile. “You _didn’t_ talk to her about this, did you?”

 _“Stark…”_ warned the older girl, ominously, but the brunette was grinning evilly at herself.

“You are going behind her back? Erika Lehnsherr, you’re _so_ screwed, and it’s not even in the good sense!” she sidestepped to avoid an incoming biker, terribly satisfied with herself. “Did you two had a fight or what?”

 _“I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”_ growled Erika, threateningly, but Toni only laughed.

“Are you _kidding_ me? It’s _everyone’s_ business when you and Charlie have a fight.” she complained, meaning every last word of it. “You two start acting like a pair of seven year olds in a pouting fight, arguing over who’s is the last cookie. Which is, in fact, really annoying to the   _actual_ seven year olds who live with you. And where do you think Raven goes to nag about it? Yeah, you got it – _my_ house.”

 _“I would be more careful with your babbling if I were you, Stark.”_ whispered the woman, very politely and nonchalant. _“You shouldn’t forget you have a large piece of metal jammed right above your heart.”_

Toni rolled her eyes. “Yes, you might want to reconsider the whole threatening my life thing, Lehnsherr, because…”

She turned a corner and stopped dead in her tracks.

 _“Stark?”_ called Erika, suspiciously, when the silence stretched for too long. _“Stark? Are you listening to me?”_

“I’ll call you back.” replied Toni, and turned her cell off before the woman could reply.

There was a moving truck parked right ahead of her, its back open showing a somewhat meager collection of boxes, a single bed and what seemed to be a humongous painting. There was a young woman trying to unload a box bigger than her, looking slightly frightened, and dragging her feet every step of the way. A blond man was standing on the sidewalk, leaning worriedly towards her, and trying to gently pry the box from her fingers.

“ _Seriously,_ dad.” she complained, yanking it away from him. “I can carry it. I walked down a runway with heels longer than your neck wearing stuff heavier than this.”

“And your mother nearly cut the blood to my fingers watching you do that.” replied the man, stern blue eyes and a worried press of lips. “Nathan will kill you if you drop that.”

“I’d like to see him try.” she scoffed, waving him away. “I _got it,_ dad, would you please chill?”

“I swear you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.” he sighed, still hovering around her protectively. “You get it from your mother.”

The young woman laughed, putting the box down and straightening up, waking fully into Toni’s line of sight. She had short brown hair tied up in a ponytail, golden reflexes faintly showing through. Tanned skin, rich brown eyes, an easy laugh that made her shoulders shake. And she was dressed in running pants that the girl recognized, because she’d accidentally spilled mustard on them in one of those early timelines before Stephanie began to mistrust her.

Jean straightened her tank top where it had come up, then rolled her eyes at her father, affectionate and ironic. “Daddy,” she said, amused, climbing back on the truck. “I’m adopted, remember?”

“So?” replied Joseph, twisting his eyebrow in a way that made his resemblance to Stephanie become parallel-universe worthy. “You really think Sarah could’ve raised you all this years and her stubbornness wouldn’t have rubbed off on you?”

“You let her hear you” teased Jean, smiling at him as he picked the box she’d put down on the sidewalk, “and you’ll be sleeping in the couch until your back cracks.”

Her father smiled back at her, conspiratorially, yanking the box up with his knee. “Well,” he mused, winking discreetly. “Captain America isn’t about to bail on me, I think.”

“Maybe,” conceded Jean, stretching her arms behind her back. “But, on the other hand, Jean Rogers doesn’t lie to her mom, _so…”_

Joseph laughed, looking at her warmly and starting towards the nearest building. “I’ll go see if they had any luck with that bed. Will you give Quinn a call and ask her if she needs a ride?”

“Sure.” agreed the woman, easily, jumping to the ground and going around the truck, towards the cabin, her upper body disappearing inside for a few moments.

Toni took a step back. Two. Three.

She turned around and walked back to where she’d come from, disappearing behind a corner and pressing against the wall, her heart palpitating painfully in her chest, her knuckles going white from clutching the bags too tightly.

Of course she already knew about Jean. Checking on them had been the first thing she’d done when her brain began working right. She had kept herself updated, followed their trails, made sure they were all doing okay. Of course she had _known_ about them.

But actually _seeing_ them was a whole other bag of cats.

Toni took a deep breath, self-consciously touching the blue ribbon messily tied around her ponytail. Then, she called a taxi. Someone else could put away the groceries.

When she finally came back, Jean was still stubbornly trying to carry boxes that were too heavy for her, cursing under her breath and eyeing the wooden ramp suspiciously. She had just put a foot on it, tentatively, when the weight in her arms subdued, and the planks cranked at the added pressure of another person stepping on it. “Do you need any help with that?”

The woman stared at Toni, half-surprise, half-confusion coloring her features. She changed her grip on the box, bringing it closer to her, considering the offer. “And you are…?”

Toni smiled, not quite her Stark Winning Smile, because she knew perfectly well how poorly that worked on the Rogers Family. “I’m Toni,” she replied, simply, waving briefly with one hand, even though the box wasn’t heavy to her at all. “You looked like you could use some help.”

Jean shrugged, apparently content with that explanation. “Well, thanks, I guess.” she replied, letting half the weight rest on her hands again. “Let’s put it over there, right? Next to… no, not that one, that other one next to the… yeah, right. Thanks.”

They put the box down and Jean let out a long puff of air, rolling her shoulders and offering Toni her hand. “I’m Jean. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” answered Toni, even though a million other questions were reeling in her mind. When did you cut your hair? How are things going with that horrid boss of yours? Are you and Nat still acting like two teens in a bad YA novel? Are you happier now than before? Do you miss her? Do you remember her?

Do you remember me?

Toni cleaned her throat, putting her hands on the small of her back, a quirk that had stayed after her injuries healed. “So, are you moving in with your family?” she asked, casually, trying not to sound too interested.

“No,” denied Jean, walking back to the trunk and looking mildly surprised when the girl followed. “It’s me, my boyfriend, and a friend of ours. _And_ our friend’s terrible taste in art.” she added, side-eyeing the big painting as if it had personally offended her.

Toni remembered that painting.

Jean had nagged Brenna about it ever since she’d bought it, complaining it completely ruined the house’s décor and that it was ridiculously big and that it gave her nightmares. Brenna had put up with the whining for about three days, at which point she had turned to Jean and very, _very_ pleasantly, with a mild smile on her face, told her if she ever mentioned the painting ever again, she’d pull her guts out in her sleep using a plastic spoon and _a lot_ of patience.

Afterwards, Stephanie had told Toni, in secret and laughing until she was crying, that Jean had slept in her bed that night, something none of the two blamed her for.

Toni smiled. “I know something about annoying roommates.” she agreed, thinking of the last fight that had erupted back at home, something involving wet towels and someone being “a great big bag of dicks”.

Jean smiled at her, bending to grab one of the smaller boxes. “You really sure you want to help?” she asked, dubiously, measuring Toni up. “There isn’t a lot of heavy stuff anymore, and anyway my dad is helping us out.” Her eyes took on a more light-hearted glint. “At your age, the last thing I would’ve wanted was to get stuck helping someone move in this heat.”

Toni chuckled too, wondering how far could she tell her the truth. “Honestly?” she finally asked, raising one eyebrow, and Jean stared expectantly. “The truth is, you remind me of my girlfriend. And stopping to help people unload their moving trucks is just something she would do.”

The argument softened Jean over immediately. Toni saw her postured changing, her eyes losing the lingering mistrust, and her smile becoming a bit more warmer. “Is that so? Well, who am I to argue against true love, right?” asked the woman, handing her the box she’d been holding, then turning back to grab another one. “So what’s her name?”

“Stephanie.” replied Toni, watching her carefully, checking for a reaction. Jean didn’t seem to think anything of it, though – she balanced a few small items against her hip and walked out again, in a good mood.

“Stephanie, huh?” asked the woman, chuckling to herself. “Kind of an unusual name . I don’t think I ever met any Stephanie. She sounds pretty nice.” tossing a smile over her shoulder, Jean put her stuff down, letting her hands hover for a moment to make sure nothing would topple over. “Is she rooming with you, too, or does she live with her parents?”

“Actually,” answered Toni, glancing at the door to see if Mr. Roger was coming back. “She moved away half an year ago. Long distance relationship.” the girl sighed dramatically, putting her stuff down, too. “It sucks.”

Jean flinched empathetically, groaning to show support. After they’d finished unloading the truck, Brenna walked outside with a couple of sodas, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, her bare legs covered with freckles and a brand new pair of glasses resting on her nose. “Brett, Nat and your father are _still_ arguing because of that bed.” she told Jean, hopping on the back of the truck to handle them over. “Didn’t we _tell_ them it wouldn’t fit?”

“Let the men play once in a while.” replied the woman, smiling impishly. “Once Philly gets here she’ll make them work for real.”

“ _Is_ Philly getting here?” asked Brenna, taking her glasses off to wipe them. “I thought she was completely buried in paperwork.”

Jean snorted, rolling her eyes. “Only because she and Quinn still think they are in their honeymoon. Seriously, they’ve been living together for how long now? I didn’t think the newly-wed fever would hit them that hard.” She laughed, relaxed, leaning back on her hands. “They couldn’t _wait_ to kick us out.”

“Haven’t you been freeloading around Philly’s for as long as she’s had the house?” questioned Brenna, innocently, and the older girl blushed.

“I wasn’t freeloading! I totally helped with the bills.” protested the woman, heartily, but Brenna was already chuckling, waving a hand at her.

“I know that, Cap.” She reassured, kissing her cheek and standing up. “Let me get back inside before one of them knocks down _another_ fire extinguisher.”

 _“Another?”_ repeated Jean, groaning and rolling her eyes theatrically. “The hell was Nathan doing? Last time I checked, he was actually pretty competent.”

Brenna pressed her lips as if she was holding back laughter. “He caught it before it hit the ground.”

Jean’s eyebrows shot up in her forehead upon hearing this. She smiled, humming approvingly into her drink and Brenna chuckled, turning towards Toni before she left: “Stick around a bit more, ‘kay?” invited the girl, friendly, smiling at her. “Quinn is almost here, and she’s bringing take-out. You could have dinner with us: it’s the least we could do.”

“Sure. Sounds awesome.” Agreed Toni, smiling back and hoping Quinn was bringing pizza. Brenna nodded, warm and friendly, before starting back into the house.

Next to her, Jean stretched leisurely, laying down on the floor with a happy sigh. “God, I’m beat.” she groaned, tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

Toni smiled, crossing her legs and leaning her elbows on her knees. The first time Stephanie had invited her over, she’d been sure they’d all hate her and the entire night would be a long stretch of uncomfortable glares and awkward questions. She hadn’t told any of that to her friend. However, as soon as she stepped through the door, she’d overheard Brenna on the phone, discussing radiation with a classmate, and Quinn had come down wrapped in her towel, demanding to know who was the evil torturer who had put the thermostat into “Summer” again and why did they hate her so much.

Stephanie had only smiled at her, knowingly.

“Say, can I ask you something?” inquired the girl, turning to look at Jean. Her arms were crossed behind her head, and her eyes were closed, but she hummed in agreement. “Why do people keep calling you ‘Cap’?”

Jean laughed, a soft chuckle, a small smile and an ironic roll of eyes. “Oh, _that.”_ She mused, dismissively, turning her head to look at her. “I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid. I think she was supposed to be a super heroine, except she was also a fairy? Something like that.” The woman laughed again, gazing nostalgically at the ceiling. “Anyway, I named her Captain America.”

“And I can’t even remember why I came up with that name.” murmured Jean, her eyes travelling far away, her voice full of yearning. The light was catching in her hair, shiny reflections, and a hazy heat settled over them like a mist. “But she helped me through some rough times, and I guess I held on to her longer than most kids do. My parents though it was cute, I think, so the nickname kind of stuck.”

Jean sighed deeply, letting her eyelids drop and lowering her voice. “I miss her sometimes.” she confessed, sleepily, almost to herself.

 _I miss her, too,_ thought Toni, closing her eyes when a breeze hit her, messing with her hair. She had forgotten how troublesome long hair could be. Days when it was this hot, the girl felt the urge to cut it short the way it had been before.

But maybe not as short. Maybe shoulder-length: that would be just about perfect.

“Hey,” called out Jean, sitting up suddenly and smiling at her. “I hadn’t noticed it before, but that ribbon you’re wearing is pretty cute.”

“Ahm?” blinked Toni, her hand going to her ponytail automatically. “Oh, this.” She smiled, letting it run through her fingers, the fabric still soft and familiar. “My girlfriend gave me it to me, actually. I think it probably suited her better.” she shrugged, letting her hand fall. “Her eyes were lighter.”

“It looks great on you.” Disagreed Jean, leaning backwards to examine it from all angles. “Gives a nice contrast. She’s got good taste. Not many girls wear ribbons anymore, and I think it’s a real pity.”

Toni hesitated, twisting one end of it around her fingers, biting her lips. Stephanie had had that ribbon for as long as they’d known each other, and the girl had never thought much of it, never wondered where she’d got it – but now it seemed pretty obvious. “Would you like to have it?” asked the girl, hesitantly, getting ready to pull it off.

“Who? Me?” Jean laughed, shaking her head and weaving her hand dismissively. “Nah, the color doesn’t match me the way it does you. Besides, I think  I’m already a bit too old.” She stretched again, sunlight in her eyes, and a smile playing at her lips. “You know, I think that if I had a little sister, that’d probably be the kind of thing I’d give her.”

Toni smiled back, letting her hand fall again. Erika would nag her into early grave when she finally got back to Shield, not to mention Rhodey, Peggy and Sam, who all thought they were the only responsible adults around (which they were), but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

And Quinn did not disappoint – she really did bring pizza.

.

.

.

There was someone trying to wake her up.

She had gone to bed at what felt like two minutes before, and someone was trying to wake her up. _Insistently._ By talking to her and pulling her covers away and just being generally annoying.

Why did the universe hate her so?

And she’d been having such a nice dream, too. Something about Jean, when they had first met in the new timeline. It was weird how Toni got these dreams when she was anxious, reliving old memories again. Maybe if she just ignored her, Yuma would give up and let her go back to sleep.

But even when Toni turned away from her, the girl just _kept on talking._

“…for a while, and I’m getting worried. Could you go and see if she’s all right? Toni? _Toni?”_ Yuma frowned, something she rarely did, because it usually made her look cute instead of angry, which made her _more_ angry, by which time the argument was a lost cause. She reached forward and shook the girl’s shoulder, shuffling closer. _“Toni!_ Are you listening to me? _”_

Toni groaned, turning on her stomach and burying her head on the pillow, mumbling a grumpy “Go to sleep.” before yanking her covers over her head.

Yuma pushed them back, stubbornly, almost dropping them off the bed. _“Toni!_ I’m talking to you!” complained the younger girl, tugging at her pillow insistently, talking in hushed tones. “Would you please wake up?”

Toni groaned again, stifling a long yawn and cracking an eye open. “It’s the middle of the night, Yuma.” she chastised, her brain only half-wake. “It can wait. Go back to sleep.”

The girl blushed from annoyance – she was half-Japanese and half-Irish, and while being the spitting image of her mother, with black, straight hair, a small nose and a roundish face, her freckles and blushing problem were all from her father’s side. “It _can’t_ wait. Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”

“Hummmm.” replied Toni, already drifting back to sleep. Yuma shook her again, harder.

“Toni.” she called out, annoyed, but keeping her voice down. “Loki’s not here.”

“WH—“ the younger girl shoved her hand against her mouth, putting a finger to her lips and “shhhhhhhhhh!”-ing angrily. Toni kicked at the covers and turned around to look behind her.

Piper was sleeping soundly, sprawled on their double bed, her back to the door, her cheek nested against Bitteline’s fur. The cat was sitting in her paws on Loki’s pillow, that way that made cats look like a loaf of bread, staring steadily back at her. It had been only a few weeks ever since Bibi began letting Piper this close to her, but that didn’t seem to affect her general behavior – she still looked as if she was plotting the best way to blind her should Toni annoy her too much.

Loki’s side of the bed was empty, her covers hastily thrown over Piper’s legs, and her slippers missing. Toni sighed, falling back on the mattress and running a hand over her eyes. “Where is she?” murmured the girl, exasperatedly, looking at Yuma.

The smaller girl was sitting with her back to the headboard, wearing her blue-and-purple Sullivan pajamas, complete with little horns, that her parents had given her just before they’d died. She had begun to outgrown it – soon it wouldn’t fit at all. But then again, who was she to talk about holding on to things? “I _told_ you.” replied Yuma, whispering. “She got up half an hour ago and said she was going for a walk. I asked to come along, but she told me she wanted to be alone.”

They looked at each other and rolled her eyes in synchrony. Loki _sucked_ at being along. Leaving her be for too long when she got that way meant she began moping and sulking and growing generally sorry for herself. Someone had to go after her. “Why didn’t you follow, anyway?” asked Toni, yawning deeply.

“You know she won’t talk to me about Tora.” replied Yuma, somewhat sadly. She had followed Loki around like a little duckling for a couple of weeks after they met, her hand fisted on her shirt at all times, as if she was scared the older girl would die were she to let go. She had gotten better, but the sense of protectiveness never really faded away.

Toni sighed, rubbing her eyes and getting up before she could fall asleep again. Better not to think about it too much – whenever she thought about Yuma, about seeing her small figure hiding behind Loki’s and Piper’s skirts when she’d approached them, Toni’s heart squeezed with tightly-compressed fear.

She had never met Yuma in any of the previous timelines. Of course, that could mean her parents had never been attacked in any of them. _Or_ , it could’ve meant Loki had never been there to save her before. “All right, I’ll go.” she sighed, stretching and feeling for her snickers. “Go back to sleep.” she added, softer, just as Fenrir jumped into their bed, stealing her place. “See? Even the _dog_ knows you should be sleeping.”

Yuma chuckled, her expression becoming more naturally childish again. Toni pulled the covers back and the girl snuggled inside, letting Fenrir rest his head against her hip. She was sleeping again in less than a minute, so the older girl tiptoed around Piper’s bed and closed the door quietly.

She went down using the stairs, yawning the entire time and rubbing her face to push the sleep away. She just couldn’t function without coffee, it seemed. Ugh, this was such a terrible idea, letting Toni talk to other people about _feelings,_ as if she had a clue. And why in the middle of the night. Just why.

Loki was exactly where Toni had thought she’d be, sitting at the edge of the pool, her pajama pants rolled up to her knees and her feet in the water. The green watery light was dancing on her face, reflecting on her hair, messily tied in a knot – she was leaning against the steps, her cheek squished against the curve on an arm, a faraway look in her eyes.

“You know,” called out Toni, walking towards her, “at two in the morning, I’m pretty sure the pool is supposed to be closed.”

Loki raised her head, turning around to look at her. A look of slight surprise crossed her eyes before she covered it up, smiling mischievously instead. She straightened up, leaning away from the steps. “I’m pretty sure the hotel’s security systems aren’t very keen on magic.” she replied, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Toni chuckled, shrugging off her snickers and sitting next to her cross legged, yawning again. “Did you remember the surveillance cameras?”

Loki rolled her eyes impatiently, flapping her legs under the water leisurely. “Of _course_ I did. Who do you think I am? An amateur?” she shook her head dramatically to reinforce her point.

The older girl snorted fondly, tapping her fingers against her chest – the habit had never really gone away, even when she stopped wearing the Arc Reactor full time. They stayed silent for a couple more minutes, Toni waiting for her brain to accept she wasn’t going to bed any time soon and Loki watching the water, leaning back on her hands.

“Having second thoughts?” finally asked Toni, carefully keeping her voice casual.

Loki sighed, resting her elbows on her knees, her face on one hand, and looking up at her. “Why do you ask?”

The girl shrugged, pushing her hair out of her face, thanking God they were already over the phase where she would have gotten a “fuck off” as an answer. “Well, we can always backtrack, if you don’t want to do it anymore.” she remarked, easily. “At least then I wouldn’t have to put up with Yuma giving tearful calls to Peggy every five minutes to ask about _Penelope._ ”

“Vanellope.” corrected Loki, automatically. “And Totoro.”

“Whatever, to ask about her chinchillas.” mumbled Toni, shortly. She didn’t like chinchillas, but she’d learned the hard way not to mention that in front of Yuma. “My point is: we can just go back if you want to. No big deal.”

The younger girl stared at her silently. It made her feel like an idiot, but these days, Toni couldn’t stop thinking that Loki had really shot up ever since they’d met. She was already beginning to grow past her.

Loki looked away, shaking her head slowly, considering. “No.” she replied, softly, and they had known each other for long enough to know when the other was lying, so they didn’t even bother anymore. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I have to talk to them.”

Toni changed positions, trying to get more comfortable on the cold floor. “Then why all the…” she moved her hand in a circular motion, encompassing the whole room. “…stuff?”

The younger girl scoffed at her choice of words, and leaned back against the steps again. “Just because I _have_ to, doesn’t mean I _want_ to.” she explained, looking at the water thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s not that I _don’t_ want  to, either, but…” she bit her lips. “It’s been four years.”

Toni considered it, examining her face carefully. “What made you want to come here?” she finally asked, softly, something she hadn’t dared doing up until now.

Loki’s eyelids fluttered, a quick, stolen glance at her face, before her gaze locked on the pool again. Her body language was more guarded now, the way she got when she didn’t want to talk about it. “My bio-dad’s wife is pregnant.”

Toni’s mind blanked for half a minute before she caught on to what the girl meant. _“Oh,”_ she breathed, blinking rapidly. “You mean… Laufeyson? He’s having a kid?” she shook her head, trying to get over the surprise. “So… you gonna get a new sibling?”

“Well… no.” replied Loki, finally looking back at her directly. “Bjorn isn’t really… that’s the point, Toni. The whole reason why I came to New York…” she stopped, biting her lips again, her fingers playing with her pajamas. She seemed to be thinking really hard.

“When I found out I was adopted…” she tried again, each word coming out slowly and nearly painfully. “I had just contracted with Sammy, and I… that is a problem _everyone_ has, you understand, is this… how do you know who you _are?_ How do you know what’s the disease, and what’s _you?_ Is there any _difference?_ ” Loki’s eyes were sharp and hot, and her breath had quickened. “I _didn’t know._ Not anymore. I’d had this _thing_ my entire life, and then I didn’t have it anymore, and I couldn’t even recognize myself.”

“So when I figured out – you know, because I could actually think straight for once,” added Loki, rolling her eyes irritably. “That I was adopted…” she relapsed into silence again, pushing her knees to her chest, something she hadn’t done in a long time now.

Toni didn’t say anything. She wasn’t really sure when exactly she’d learned to shut up – but she knew it worked better with the girl. She knew how Loki had figured it out. Old enough to start noticing things, exceptionally smart for her age, with a newly functioning brain. Her father had light brown hair, and her mother was blonde: how come hers was black? Had she ever seen pictures of Elin’s pregnancy?

Her adoption papers had been filed next to Tora’s birth records.

Loki closed her eyes for a second before going on. “I went to New York to meet my biological mother,” she explained, carefully, “because I thought it would give me a clue about who I was.”

Toni let go of a long breath, feeling her body tingling. Sometimes, all of this still scared the shit out of her, as if she was one step away from tumbling into an abysm. She untied Steph’s ribbon from her hair and began playing with it, winding and unwinding it around her pinky. “But you never actually met her.” she pointed out, quietly.

Loki’s bio-mom, Liss-Hege, had been living at NY around the time the girl had contracted and then run away. She was a publicist whose skyrocketing career had granted her a two year internship at a big sports equipment company. Loki had come to meet her, met Piper on the way, then Yuma, then Toni and Shield, and when Liss had finally moved back home, pocketing a brand-new promotion, Loki still hadn’t got around to introducing herself.

“I didn’t have to.” replied the younger girl, shrugging, seeming to relax again now that the worst part of the truth was out. “Other things happened in the way. I met some other people. And I didn’t… I never needed them to know who I am, Toni.” explained Loki, raising her eyes, iron and water and emeralds in them. “I figured it out by myself.”

Toni smiled. “Yeah? And what’s that?” she questioned, poking her in the ribs. “Cause to me you seem the same old annoying prat you’ve always been.”

“Go to hell.” retorted the younger girl, grinning at her. She twisted, making a face when the mental handle of the steps bit into her back, then sat more comfortably. “I’m a Magical Girl. That’s who I am right now. And a load of other things. And also, specially…” she put her hair behind her ear, pushing it away from her face. “I am my parent’s daughter.  But I don’t mean Liss and Bjorn, they are not my real parents. I still want to meet them, figure some things out, but my _real_ family…” Loki’s eyelids dropped, something like guilty and pain and sharp longing crossing her face. “It’s probably time I woman up and face them.”

Toni tilted her head, wincing empathetically: her accident had happened a few months before Loki had run away from home. She’d never get the chance to tell her father just where he could shove it, but between Pepper and Happy, she’d been sufficiently yelled at over the past three years. The first time Happy had accidentally called her “young lady” Toni had begun laughing so badly she’d snorted. “So what about this new kid?”

The expression in Loki’s eyes gave her away with glaring clarity. Of course Toni already knew that about her – after all, Loki was the one who picked up strays. That’s what she _did._ She picked up the ones who were left behind, smothered them with attention, patched them up and set them back on their feet, then dissolved into a pool of dazzled sappiness when they began following her around.

It had been that way with Bibi, and with Fenrir, and with Yuma, maybe even a little bit with Piper and Peggy. She was going completely ballistic at the chance to be a big sister. Loki shrugged, looking up embarrassedly. “Well, we won’t really be siblings if we never meet, are we? I figured if I wanted the right to meet her… or him… I should at least learn to look at my own sister in the eye again.”

Toni pushed her knees to her chest, too, and rested her chin on top of them. “Do you miss her?” she asked, casually, still playing with her ribbon.

The younger girl took a moment before responding. “Yes.” she whispered, softly, yearning filling her voice and her eyes. “Do you?”

She hesitated, thinking hard about it. She had liked Tora when they’d first met, and then some times after that, but in those early timelines, she had been so _jealous_ and so _furious,_ and between her, and Peggy, and Stephanie trusting her less and less each day, it had been very hard not to hate her. “I’m not sure.” she admitted, quietly.

Loki’s eyes travelled to the blue ribbon, understanding in her features. “You know,” she remarked, almost off-handedly, pushing her pajama pants down, even though her legs were still wet. “When I decided to go after my bio-parents, I could’ve gone to Denmark first, instead of NY.”

Toni raised an eyebrow at her, wondering where this was going. “So, why didn’t you?” she asked, actually curious – she _had_ thought about it before, that it was a very weird coincidence Loki had ended up in NY without having followed Tora there.

“NY was closer, and at the same time, it was further away from the rest of my family.” explained the younger girl, shrugging. “But,” she added, before Toni could roll her eyes, “it was more than that. I had a feeling. I _knew_ I should be at NY. I knew I’d find out what I wanted, if only I went there.”

She looked at her meaningfully. “I feel the same way about coming back here.” she murmured, somberly. “And now that I’ve been thinking about it, I’m guessing this feeling isn’t really coming from me.”

Toni stared at her, feeling her heart spike up painfully. “Do you think…” she whispered, letting the phrase hang on the air between them.

Loki shrugged. “I don’t actually _remember_ her – you know that. But, by what you’ve told me…” the girl tapped her knees thoughtfully, examining the blue ribbon. “Sounds like something she would do, doesn’t it?”

The older girl immediately thought back at Jean, about the times where she’d seen her with her parents, looking every bit as easy with Sarah and Joseph as Steph had been. None of them had been left alone.

Stephanie wouldn’t have let them alone.

Toni smiled, crossing her arms over her knees and resting her cheek on them. “Sounds exactly like something she’d do.” agreed the girl, fondly.

Loki gave her a smug look, the one that never came out as arrogant as she actually wanted it to. She considered her thoughtfully, hesitating for a moment with half-open lips, before carefully requesting: “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm.” Toni nodded, lazily. After explaining to Loki she had witnessed her slow descend into madness countless times, she doubted there was much the girl could ask that would make her uncomfortable.

Loki still hesitated anyway, seeming to be rolling the question inside her mind. “When Stephanie changed the Magical Girl system, and you… woke up, or regained your memories, or something… and you weren’t contracted anymore.” the younger girl bit her lips, perplexity showing in her voice. “Why did you contract anyway? I mean,” she shook her head, letting her knees drop and sitting cross-legged. “I know _why_ , you used your wish to help get rid of illegal Stark tech, but…” she shrugged. “Couldn’t you have done it by yourself? And why that wish, anyway? Why not… anything else?”

Toni considered this, picking the question apart in silence. For the vast majority of them, fighting demons was a means to an end – the price for a last resource, the trade-off for having their wishes granted. Everything else that came with it was only a side-effect, a bonus, a consolation prize. But to them, to Loki and to herself specifically, it hadn’t been that way – their _wishes_ were the means to an end. _Being_ a Magical Girl was the really important part.

“I contracted again because…” whispered Toni, keeping her eyes on the ribbon resting against her fingers, “because I didn’t want to forget her.”

She folded the ribbon carefully, tucking it safely on her pocket, and wondered how to properly explain it. “I left the hospital trying to figure out something I _wanted_ to live for.” admitted, the girl, not looking at Loki. “And I thought that it would be Stephanie, and it _was,_ for some time. But then, she was gone, and I realized I didn’t…” she stopped, feeling her heart squeeze, the air leaving her lungs for a few seconds. “I realized that it wasn’t… just about us anymore. Just… Peggy, and Tora, and even _you_ , annoying brats…”

“Call me a brat again, and your _ancestors_ will feel it.” interrupted Loki, calmly, raising one eyebrow at her. Toni rolled her eyes.

“You get what I mean.” she replied, impatiently, looking back at her, and shrugging. “Being a Magical Girl. Keeping you all from blowing yourselves up. That’s what really mattered. Stephanie did all of that because of us, and I…” she let out a long breath, feeling it go around the hole in her chest. Some days it hurt more than others, but the vast majority of times, Toni could almost forget it was there at all. “I wanted for it to have meant something. I wanted to fight, too. For her. For _us_.” she pressed the palms of her hands against the edge of the pool. “I _wanted_ to keep on fighting.”

Loki nodded somberly, her eyes quiet, letting the silence settle between them for just enough time before she shifted, moving closer to the girl and pressing their arms together, her skin warm, smooth and real. “I wish I could remember her, too.”

Toni looked down at her, surprised, not as much by the physical contact – Loki had become more and more cuddly these past few months – but by the admission. She usually avoided talking of Stephanie ever since they’d first discussed the matter, for reasons Toni wasn’t entirely sure about. The whole history _had_ to be disturbing, knowing you trusted your life on a daily bases to someone who had known you for far longer than you had known them. Still, sometimes Loki’s feelings were as hard to decipher as they had been in the beginning.

The younger girl shrugged, seeming unbothered by the sudden confession, and looked up at Toni, her eyes dim and foggy. “She saved me from being a monster.” explained Loki, shortly, the weight of her words pressing between them in heavy silence.

Toni reached out and passed an arm around her shoulders, pulling Loki against her and squeezing for three long breaths. “You were never a monster, you idiot.” she whispered, against her hair, squishing one last time, than shaking her unceremoniously.  “Not let’s get back up and go back to sleep. _Jesus,_ I hate taking planes, and I hate jet leg, and I hate when people’s kid sisters wake me up in the middle of my slumber.”

 Loki rolled her eyes and let Toni pull her up, raising to her feet graciously. “Yuma woke you up? I thought it had been Bibi.”

“Your cat only stared.” replied the older girl, shivering. “And that was bad enough. So get your ass back there before she decides I’m taking too long and begins planning her revenge.”

Loki smiled, false innocence and a lot of real malice, sweetly sighing something in Norwegian. Toni caught the word “nusket” and rolled her eyes. Loki’s cat was _creepy,_ no matter what the younger girl had to say about it.

They’d left the curtains open, so the street light slipped in the bedroom as they tiptoed back in, illuminating Piper’s and Yuma’s faces, all peaceful and slack in their sleep. Toni put her ribbon back on the nightstand, on top of the Arc Reactor, before climbing between the sheets again. Loki slid next to Piper, nudging her out of the way, Bibi curling against her stomach immediately.

It occurred to Toni, right before she fell asleep, that she’d forgotten to tell Loki one last thing about why she had become a Magical Girl again. But, figured the girl, giving one last look around to make sure everyone was accounted for – it wasn’t like they didn’t know it already.

.

.

.

She got woken up again by loud, familiar voices, their rhythm and melody reminiscent of post-hunting breakfast and those Friday nights when Gen was busy with something else, and Piper joined them at Shield, eating her body weight in pizza and indulging Yuma while the girl rattled about what she’d learned that week at school.

Toni moaned in her pillow, hating everything, and wondering if she could go back to sleep if she tried hard enough – but now that she was awake, Loki’s and Piper’s voices were demanding her attention, pulling her more firmly into full consciousness.

“But, dude! It’s PB and jelly! How can you _not_ like PB &J?” insisted Piper, disbelief in her voice, sounding very much as if she had her mouth full. Loki snorted.

“How can you _like_ it?” she shot back, unimpressed, derogatorily. “It’s sticky, and pasty and _way_ too sweet. Disgusting. Makes a mess out of everything.”

“You want to talk about a mess?” challenged Piper. Toni cracked an eye open. “Why do you eat only one slice of bread each time? How do you not get _stuff_ all over you?”

Loki glared at Piper. The two of them were sitting by the other bed, the TV turned on with the volume muted, a trolley with enough food to last for various winter months standing next to it. Loki had a hair tie between her teeth, and was brushing Yuma’s hair, braiding it with dexterous fingers. The small girl was sitting on her lap, drinking milk and eating a doughnut, with Bibi resting across her legs. Piper was by their side, cross-legged, a purple jelly mustache on her upper lip.

Finishing fixing up Yuma’s hair, Loki took the hair tie out. “And then you can’t feel the taste of anything.” she remarked, snorting, reaching for a couple hair clips to put some slippery locks into place.

“Why would I want to taste fish’s eggs?” asked Piper, mildly disgusted, and her friend rolled her eyes.

“That’s _kaviar,_ and they are not vegan, so _I_ don’t eat it.” she pointed out, smiling down at Yuma. “All done here, lille venn. You look beautiful.”

“I like kaviar.” opined the small girl, climbing out of Loki’s lap and sitting between them. “I like that other thing you gave me the other day, too. What was it, again?”

“Gulost,” explained Loki, smiling, and Piper made a loud noise of disgust. “Shut up, that’s just yellow cheese.”

“And cucumber!” added Yuma, licking her lips and finishing her doughnut. “I like cucumber, too.”

“Yuma, you like _everything_ we give you.” remarked Piper, amusedly, but Toni interrupted them, groaning loudly and dragging it for long seconds.

“ _Seriously?”_ she complained, glaring daggers at them. “You woke me up because you’re arguing over _breakfast food?_ What’s wrong with you, people?”

Yuma looked over her shoulder, giving her a very unimpressed look. “Toni, it’s nine in the morning already.” she informed, disapprovingly.

“A time in which no sensible human being should be up if they have a choice.” muttered the older girl, passing a hand over her face. She could practically _hear_ Loki and Yuma rolling her eyes at her.

“I kept trying to tell them that!” exclaimed Piper, with empathetic outrage, and Fenrir barked happily, just to remind everyone he was still around.

“Huuuungh.” groaned Toni, rolling over in her back and stretching. “There’s something I should be doing.” she murmured to herself, trying to think around the lack of caffeine. They had arrived at the hotel yesterday and went straight to bed, exhausted by a late emergency call just the day before they took the plane. She was pretty sure she was forgetting something.

She thought harder about it. “Shit.” cursed Toni, sitting up on her elbows. “Hey! Did you call your aunt, Piper?”

Piper turned to look at her, licking the jelly mustache off. “Aunt May? Yeah, I called her from my cellphone when we arrived at the hotel.” she rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? If I hadn’t called her, she would’ve phoned already just to make disappointed noises at me.”

“I called Peggy to tell her we got here all right.” added Yuma, putting her glass of milk down in favor of snuggling closer to Bibi. “She said she’s changed her schedule around at college so there’s always someone at home. And then Rhodey took the phone and told me to tell you…” she frowned, looking away as she tried recalling it. “That she found out that thing about Malibu, and that when you get back, you’re seven kinds of dead.”

Toni laughed, smiling smugly at the ceiling. Jane was in for a though ride if she thought she could outprank her. Good thing her friend was as bad as Peggy when it came to pretty new trinkets that exploded. “She can try.”

“Pepper called you, too.” warned Loki, feeding Fenrir bites of carrot.

“Pepper?” yawned Toni, feeling for her phone. “What was it about?”

“I think there was something to do with a journalist, and _something_ about putting your brains in a jar if you didn’t email her the new projects in the next five minutes.” answered Loki, smiling at her over her shoulder. “I would call her back if I were you.”

Toni glared at her, then turned her attention back to her phone, resigned to face the wrath of her CEO. She’d just gotten back from her honeymoon, and gone straight into murdering mode at the mess Stark Industries had gotten itself into during her absence (it hadn’t, really, not any more than ever. Pepper was just that efficient). Happy must’ve been an specialist in shoulder rubs by now.

The line rang two times before Pepper picked up. _“You’re late.”_ She told Toni, in clipped tones and a tense voice.

“Awwww, Pepper, I’m chaperoning three underage kids here.” she remarked, making a pouty voice, and got bread tossed at her. “ _HEY!”_

 _“‘Hey’, what, Toni?.”_ asked the woman, her voice lowering in a very dangerous way.

“Hey nothing, I was talking to the kids.” explained Toni, hurriedly, and more bread got tossed her way. “Will you two _quit_ that…! I mean, I’m emailing you the projects _right now._ ” She added, accessing the files quickly and pressing the phone against her shoulder. “It’ll be there in two secs, Pepper. Really. Deep breaths, everything will be all right, there they go, on their way, no harm done!”

She heard Pepper sighing on the other end of the line, and could imagine her perfectly, sitting at her desk in the main office, impossibly high heels, not a button out of place, staring down sixty-something, powerful, rich men into whimpering like little kids. Toni hadn’t done many right decisions in her life, but putting the woman ahead of Stark Industries had been one of the best.

 _“How’s everything working out over there?”_ asked Pepper, more softly, typing sounds on the background. _“Is Loki doing okay so far?”_ There was a pause. _“Wait, is she within hearing distance?”_

“Yes, and yes.” replied Toni, smiling and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “We’re having breakfast. Is there coffee?” she asked suddenly, turning back at them. “Please tell me there’s coffee.”

Piper waved at the trolley absent-mindedly, and Loki pushed a plate towards her, probably complying to Peggy’s on-going vendetta to put food on her before she drank coffee in the morning. Toni rolled her eyes at her and poured a big cup. “So, yeah, we’re still gonna figure out the plans for today.” she added, neutrally.

Pepper hummed under her breath, momentarily distracted by something else, before adding, efficiently: _“Okay, the projects arrived. Have you seen the Times today?”_

“The New York Times? Why?” Toni stepped into the veranda, closing the glass behind her. “Ugh, is it something I should be worried about? _Please_ tell me it has nothing to do with fucking Stane.”

 _“No, he’s staying put for the time being. Thank God for that, too, I hate dealing with the police.”_ Pepper sighed, and the stress was palpable in her voice. _“No, it’s the same usual nagging. Some journalist thinking he can find dirty on me if he digs deep enough.”_ She buffed, impatiently, contempt tightly compressed dripping through the phone. _“He’s probably still thinking I slept with someone to get the job.”_

“Should I do something about it? Is he any close to the truth?” inquired Toni, frowning and searching for the news online. She was getting better at working with images with her eyes still open.

Pepper laughed at the other end of the line. _“The truth? You mean that I was hired by a teenager girl who is supposed to be dead to be the figure head of an internationally famous, multimillionaire company?”_

Toni smiled mischievously. Faking your own death was surprisingly easy when your body and your soul weren’t necessarily the same thing. “Awww, babe, I didn’t hire you as a figurehead. Only to dismantle the internationally famous, multimillionaire company’s most profitable branch, piss off half the United States government, and put a dangerous weapons dealer behind bars.” she took a deep breath, holding back laughter. “No big deal at all.”

Pepper laughed again, some of the tensions leaving her voice, and some warmth sipping back in. _“Tell me again why I took the job?”_

“I have pretty eyes?” guessed Toni, leaning against the balcony and smiling fondly. “Or you’re as crazy as us. That’s probably it.”

The woman hummed neutrally under her breath, hints of humor in it. _“I probably am.”_ she admitted, softly, chuckling briefly. _“I should go back to work. Wish Loki luck for me. And let me know how things went, all right? Peggy’s been biting her nails out of anxiety all day.”_

“How’s she doing around there, by the way?” inquired Toni, gulping down the rest of the coffee. Peggy had been going slightly maniac the last few weeks, still trying to find balance between college, her new job, and her Magical Girl duties. Toni couldn’t understand for the life of her how all that stress made her friend look so happy. Go figure.

 _“She’s doing fine. Should probably get her first ulcer in a few days’ time, which is practically a rite of passage.”_ the girl could hear the smile in her words. _“Talk to you later, Toni.”_

“Bye, Pepper.” she replied, still smiling, cutting the call. It was chilly outside, a cold breeze picking up strength and blowing her hair on her face. Inside, the three younger girls had finished eating and were putting the remains of breakfast back on the trolley, hopping from the bed to get dressed.

Piper had just picked Yuma up by the waist and was throwing her, giggling and squirming, over her shoulder, when Toni felt something moving by her elbow and turned around. Fury was sitting by her side, watching them with his typical neutral expression. “Good morning, Antonia.” he greeted, politely, turning his attention to her.

“Hey, Fury.” she replied, putting her cup down. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

“There aren’t as many of me in Washington as there are in New York.” explained the panther, jumping inside the veranda and shaking himself to get rid of the thin rain that had begun falling. “I was carrying your message to the other Magical Girls in the area. You should be able to hunt freely, at least for tonight.”

“Did you check on Tora?” asked Toni, reaching out to let him climb on her shoulder.

“I passed by her house. She appeared to be fine.” informed Fury, getting comfortable around the girl’s neck. “How are the preparations going along?”

“Let’s let Loki figure her own stuff out before we begin negotiations, all right?” she replied, opening the glass doors to get back inside. “We haven’t even got changed it yet.”

Things had gone a bit chaotic inside. Loki and Piper were having a quarrel over not hanging Yuma upside down after she’d just finished eating, and between four girls trying to take a bath and change clothes in a single hotel room, the place became a mess pretty quickly. Toni had finally managed to stuff all her belongings back into her bag, when she realized Loki was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did she…” began the girl, but Piper shushed her, pointing towards the bathroom door.

The silence that fell between them was unnaturally deep.

.

.

.

Loki stared at the phone in her hand, sitting at the edge of the bathtub, her wet hair sticking to her neck. She already knew the number by heart.

She could call her mother, or her father. Being near them made her miss them so acutely it felt like she was bleeding from the inside. It reminded her of the family she’d left behind in Norway – her grandparents, specially – and even the country itself, which she had missed from the first day she’d left it.

She could call her parents.

But she really needed to call her sister.

Pushing her hair away from her face, Loki pressed the hills of her palms against her eyes. Tora made things so bloody _difficult._ Everything Loki felt for her always seemed to run much deeper than what she felt by anyone else. It seemed as if her entire life she’d been falling apart by the seams and Tora had been the one who kept her afloat by her fingertips. She had hated Tora so much she’d tasted blood, and she’d loved Tora so much her heart almost refused to keep beating when she’d run away from home.

It hadn’t been healthy. Loki knew that, now. She realized how much she’d been depending on her sister, how many expectations she’d put on her, how starved she’d been once her voids kicked in at full strength. Loki knew now, the same way she knew she wasn’t a freak, that her feelings for Tora hadn’t been completely real.

But _what_ part of them had been real?

The part where Tora was her sister, or the part where Loki had been madly in love with her?

“Get this over with, Loki.” whispered the girl, tersely, holding the phone again. Her fingers hovered for half a second, and then she began dialing, pressing the device against her ear harder than necessary.

It rang for so long, she was just about to give up. And then…

“Hello?”

Loki closed her eyes slowly, a sudden wave of serenity rolling over her, washing her soul clean. She smiled, gulping to keep the tears away from her voice. “Tora?”

There was a heavy silence on the other hand of the line. “…Loki?” whispered Tora, sounding so much younger than she remembered her, her voice quivering weakly.

The girl took a deep breath, steadying herself and digging her fingernails in her leg. “Hi, sis.” she whispered, blinking to make her vision clear, unsuccessfully.

“Please don’t hang up.” begged Tora, abruptly, urgency burning in her tone. Loki blinked again, taken aback by the sharp pleading, her mouth falling open. “Sister, please…”

“I won’t.” interrupted the girl, her heart breaking a little, trying to sound soothing. “Tora, is okay. I won’t hang up on you.”

She heard her sister breathing heavily, and wondered when had this happened – when had she become the strong one? “Loki,” called Tora, hesitantly, seemingly struggling with her words. “How… where…” she stopped, gulping loudly, then trying again. “Why did you…?”

“I wanted to see you.” explained Loki, hurriedly, the words getting stuck in her throat for half a minute. “Will you come and meet me?”

“Of course I will.” answered Tora, and the younger girl nearly cried at the familiar tone, the one she used when she thought this really should go without saying. “Where?”

“You can’t tell mother and father.” she added, firmly, trying to control her breathing. “Not yet. Promise me, and I’ll tell you where.”

There was a longer stretch of silence this time, and Loki forced herself to open her hand before she could hurt her own leg. She flexed her fingers, opening and closing, waiting and barely breathing.

“…I promise.” agreed Tora at least, solemnly, quietly.

The girl gave her the address – and then cut the call.

.

.

.

Loki exited the bathroom in her bathrobe, tying the knot with more strength than necessary, lines of tension settling visibly in her shoulders. She stopped when she noticed the three girls staring at her, and glared out of principle, injecting enough outrage in her eyes to make it known eavesdropping again would get them all killed.

“She should be here in half an hour.” informed the girl, an edge to her voice that they could hear plainly, even as she tried to conceal it.

“Does that mean we should scatter?” asked Piper, with her usual lack of tact, but Loki only shook her head in agreement.

“I think it’s best if you take Bibi and Fenrir with you, too.” she added, embarrassed, for all she was good at covering it up. Yuma finishing buttoning up her shirt.

“Maybe we should clean the room a bit before she gets here.” she suggested, looking pointedly at  Piper and Toni, who sighed in cue, and began collecting their things.

Loki pressed her lips together, looking pale and fragile in her bathrobe, for a brief moment looking down with a completely lost look in her eyes. Toni saw her taking a deep breath, straightening up and putting it back together, even if her hands were still gripping her elbows tightly.

Fifteen minutes later, she, Yuma and Piper were ready to go out sight-seeing, the room was in a reasonable state of order, and Loki was inside the bathroom blow-drying her hair. Yuma held Bibi with one arm, guiding Fenrir to the door with the other hand and Piper was counting the money aunt May had given her, wondering how much should she spent with Gene’s souvenir.

“Oh, by the love of God, just use your Shield account already.” called out Toni, tying her ribbon to keep her fringe out of the way. “That’s why I set it up _for,_ you know. _Loki!_ We’re leaving the key with you, come lock up the door!”

“I told you already I can’t keep using that account for everything, aunt May will think I’m robbing people.” replied Piper, bending down to pick Sammy up as Yuma waited impatiently by the door.

“Let’s go already.” she insisted, tugging at Toni’s shirt when she came through with the key.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, hold on for five seconds. _Loki!_ Did you hear what I said? We’re going out!”

Toni pulled the door open, and immediately froze in her tracks, making Piper bump against her back, and Yuma bump against Piper. “ _Hey_ , why’d’ya do… _oh.”_ breathed the younger girl, staring up with very awkward panic.

Tora was on the other side of the door, her hand hanging in the air as if she had been about to knock.

.

.

.

Tora’s earliest memory was of Loki, on the day her parents had brought her little sister home. In fact, a great deal of her earliest memories involved Loki, somehow – her presence melting into the background as the years passed, but ever-present, the continuous thread that tied all of Tora’s life into a single existence.

When Tora first put her eyes on her, Loki had been a little rolled-up bundle, with swollen eyes, red cheeks and an absurd amount of deep black hair. She was born slightly premature, really small, with fingernails so tiny they were barely visible, and Tora had stared wide-eyed over the edge of the couch, as if she’d never seen a baby before in her life.

“She’s smaller than you, Tora, and not as strong.” warned Wegger, carefully picking her up and settling her next to baby Loki, his movements slow and deliberate. “You have to be very careful with her. Can you do that?”

“I can do that.” promised the little girl, crawling towards her as if she was approaching a scared, tiny bird. She tilted her head to the side, holding her breath, examining Loki with barely contained awe.

Tentatively, afraid of putting too much strength or speed into it, Tora pressed a finger to Loki’s tiny, tiny, tiny hand, and her sister’s fingers closed around it, holding on with an iron grip. Tora gasped, excitement rising to her head like champagne bubbles, making her head sprint on her chest. “Daddy, _look!”_ she cried out, in her most hushed tone.  “She is holding my hand!”

Wegger smiled, sharing a look with Elin, who was sitting by Loki’s other side, her eyes puffy and her nose slightly red. “Well, yes. That’s what sisters are supposed to do, baby.”

Tora shook her hand a bit, carefully, but Loki did not let go, her arm going up and down with the swing. She made a small baby noise, as if it was starting to annoy her, and the older girl stilled as if her muscles had turned to stone. Loki yawned, brushing her other hand messily all over her face in a lazy attempt at rubbing her eyes, before stilling again.

“I love you, sister.” said Tora, slowly, trying the words out and feeling them roll in her tongue. Yes, they felt right. That felt right, concluded the girl, smiling and crawling even closer. She lied next to Loki, resting her head on Elin’s lap and kept holding on the her little sister’s hand.

Tora used to wonder, absent-mindedly, why she had been so surprised at the notion of having a baby sister – hadn’t her parents explained to her why her mother’s belly was suddenly growing bigger and why there was a new crib at the house?

It wasn’t until Loki run away that she found out the true reason.

Why hadn’t she realized before? Why hadn’t she realized her own sister had been planning to run away from home? Had she ever understood Loki at all? Had she ever really tried? All those early morning jogs, when she’d hugged Loki, tighter and tighter, why had she never asked anything? Had she been afraid?

When had she failed Loki so?

She stared at the hotel door, simple and unassuming, her heart thundering in her chest, breathing hard from running all the way up here. She thought about the last time she’d seen Loki’s face, on the night before she left, when her sister had come into her room at night.

Loki had been acting weird those past few months, staying less and less time at home, mysterious silences stretching longer and longer between her words. The nervous energy that used to surround her was gone, something Tora had never noticed even existed before it wasn’t there anymore. Her patience had grown exponentially, but her brilliance seemed to have subdued, as if she had become paler.

Elin had thought maybe Loki was just growing up. Her grades were roughly the same, her bedroom suddenly became pristine and rigorously tidy, and she’d asked their mom to teach her how to cook, actually keeping interested for long enough to properly grasp it.

It was only after she was gone that Tora noticed the other stuff – the furtive, searching glances she shot at them in the breakfast table, her sudden obsession with their family three, the genetics book she caught her reading once. The way Loki had sat at the edge of her bed that night, asking quietly if she could sleep with her.

“Do you think…” asked the girl, several minutes later, when the lights were off and Tora felt her holding on to her fingers with both hands. “Tora, do you think, that… that if we… even if we weren’t…”

Tora blinked, pillowing her face in her arm and looking at Loki in the faint light coming from the living room. “What is it?” she asked, frowning slightly, a little worried.

“It’s… nothing.” whispered Loki, tiredly. “Nothing important. I already know the answer, anyway.”

Tora considering insisting, wondering what was it her sister could be hesitant about asking her. “Is it a good answer?” she asked, instead, carefully, and could see her sister’s lips twitching upwards a bit.

“Yes, it is.” agreed the younger girl, lighter, which made her smile. “But I probably have to work on believing it.”

“Do you need help?” inquired Tora, meaning it in every sense of the world, but Loki shook her head, rejecting it, and the talk had ended there.

And now there were three unknown girls staring up at her with varying degrees of surprise, and Tora missed Loki so much she felt she could pass out at any moment.

The older girl, which should be roughly her own age, had the strangest look in her face, as if – and that was a poor metaphor, but it was the first thing that crossed her mind – she’d just run on an ex in the street. She was short, with tanned skin and dark blue eyes. Her clothing, a _Metallica_ t-shirt with jeans that were cut off at the knee and black commando boots, contrasted sharply with the baby-blue ribbon tied as a tiara in her hair.

The girl right behind her was taller, but looked younger, with choppy brown hair and hazel eyes, lots of bony elbows and skinny angles still waiting for puberty to end so they could click together once and for all. _She_ was looking at Tora as if her parents had just caught her trying to sneak out her bedroom window, her mouth slowly closing as she gulped.

The last member of the trio was the smallest – an Asian girl that couldn’t be older than ten, who stared up at Tora with mild surprise, as if she was a visitor she wasn’t expecting. Her left hand was grasping a big black dog, nearly as big as her, holding him by the collar as if he was a cute puppy. Her right arm was firmly hooked around a grey cat, and that was what caused Tora’s heart to stop beating – she was skinner, and maybe older, but easily recognizable. Bitteline.

“Is she…” choked Tora, not able to make the words come out, and the older girl’s eyes went softer around the edges, a look that could be affectionate if they had ever seen each other before.

“She’s in the bathroom.” replied the stranger, nudging the girl behind her and stepping around Tora. “The key is inside.”

The small girl stopped before following them, her eyes taking a more guarded look, as if she was trying to be threatening. “Be nice to her.” she warned, plainly, and Tora suddenly realized her hair was tied up in a fishtail braid. She nodded.

“Yuma, let’s go!” called the skinny girl from the elevator. The dog barked, and Bitteline gave Tora a nasty look, and Yuma run to catch up to her companions, disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Her breath wasn’t coming in anymore – her lugs didn’t seem to fill up, no matter how much air she inhaled. Tora stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and looked around.

The two double beds were messy, clearly hastily put together after a night’s sleep. The curtains were drawn, and the breakfast trolley had been pushed aside where it would be easier for the cleaning staff to maneuver. There were four bags open near the foot of the beds, two of them overflowing with messily stuffed clothing, and two others perfectly tidied up, their contents folded neatly. That was about it.

There were no indications of a long stay anywhere – no personal belongings in the nightstands, no discarded clothing in the chairs, or shoes lying around. There wasn’t any hint of Loki, but yet Tora circled the place, desperately looking for a clue, a glimpse, anything to connect the place to her sister. Anything to help her understand, to tell her what she’d done wrong and where Loki had been all this time, leaving behind cryptic messages that never changed – _I’m okay, I can’t come back, I’m safe, I still can’t come back._

What could she tell her sister after all this time? 

The thought of having her so close scared Tora, as if Loki was just about to slip through her fingers yet again. And losing her one more time terrified the girl more than anything else ever had.

The sound of a blow-dryer died out suddenly, making the girl nearly jump out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized it had been there before.

“Toni?” someone called, casually, almost distractedly, turning Tora’s bones into water. “Toni, did you just say something?”

Silence – Tora couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. There was a small _clunk,_ coming from the bathroom, someone putting something down. “Toni? Pipes?” insisted the voice, followed by another brief pause, and then a loud, exasperated sigh. “Would it kill them to give me a heads up?... You two better not be behind the door waiting to jump on me!” it warned, a distinct sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. “I don’t think I need to remind you what happened the _last time_ you tried to pull that on me, and I would have _thought_ that I’d knocked some…”

Loki walked into the room and froze like a deer caught in the headlights.

It had been four years ever since they’d last laid eyes on each other. Tora hadn’t realized exactly how huge the hole in her chest was, until it wasn’t there anymore. As if it had never existed. As if she hadn’t spent entire hours staring at Loki’s empty bedroom, looking exactly the same no matter how much she looked, because none of them had the courage to touch it. As if Tora hadn’t had to physically constrain herself every time she got home from school, to keep from calling out for her sisters. As if they hadn’t stopped eating at the dinner table, because the sight of the girl’s empty seat made speaking downright impossible.

It was as if none of that had ever happened, because the mere sight of her abruptly put everything back in its place, the pain disappearing so completely, the lack of it felt like utter bliss.

“…sense… into… you.” finished Loki, awkwardly, her voice barely above a whisper, not moving a muscle.

Tora just _stared_ at her, drinking the sight, drowning on her presence, on seeing the real, breathing, living image of her sister. She looked so _different_ – and yet so exactly how Tora remembered her.

She’d grown like crazy these past few years, shooting up several inches, and gaining a couple of pounds. The baby-like roundness to her face had disappeared, leaving behind elegant lines, high cheekbones, thin lips. Her eyes were clear, filled with a confidence Tora didn’t remember seeing, some sort of tranquility, of surety, a hint of laughter that wouldn’t fade. She was standing up different. Her voice sounded different, too, but Tora couldn’t figure out why.

Loki gulped. She was tying up her hair in a high ponytail – how many times had Tora seen her in a ponytail? When their mother didn’t tame it in a braid, her hair used to fall in her eyes all the time, messy and never brushed. Now it was pushed back, away from her face, and Loki finished tying it, looping the elastic one, two, three times, then letting her hands drop slowly. She was wearing star-shaped earrings.

Tora breathed in slowly, in and out, and took an hesitant step towards her. Loki’s eyes followed her, unsure, the way she used to look when she wanted to play with her and didn’t want to admit it. Even her clothes were different – Tora remembered her in baggy shirts and old dresses and bizarre combinations of clashing colors. Now she was wearing fitting black jeans with suspenders, and a top with a red roses’ pattern. There were a pair of boots next to one of the beds, and a jacket hanging on the headboard. 

When Tora wasn’t looking, Loki had grown into her own skin.

Loki took a deep breath, her eyes running feverishly over Tora’s face, her eyes coating with a layer of tears. “Hello, sister.” she whispered, shakily, an hesitant smile tugging at her lips.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Tora strode forward, taking two wide steps towards her, and Loki blinked, looking up, tears on her eyelids, her mouth half-way through forming her name when she got interrupted. Tora pulled her into her arms, lifting her off the ground, burying her face in her hair, and finally putting her life back into its right place.

.

.

.

Loki yelped at the sudden hug, finding herself suddenly crushed inside of Tora’s arms, unable to breath, her feet dangling off the ground.

She closed her eyes, for a moment feeling actually, physically incapable of moving anymore. Then her arms went around Tora’s neck, squeezing, holding on tightly and her face was in her sister’s hair and she had never been so glad she was alive ever before.

Tora was still taller than her. That was plainly unfair. “I missed you.” whispered the girl, brokenly, blissfully, and Loki sobbed.

 _Missed_ her?

Tora had no idea, had she? She had no idea what it had been like, having to leave her behind. She’d missed her like a living thing every single day, had nearly turned around and came back just because she couldn’t bare being away any more.

She sobbed again. Her sister hadn’t changed much. She was really taller, and looked more serious, more mature, and more grown up. But all that she had liked best hadn’t changed at all: the openness, the security, the boisterous affection. And now, with Tora’s arms safely wrapped around her waist, Loki could _really_ recall how safe she’d always made her feel, as if nothing in the world could ever get past her sister and harm her.

So that was it, wasn’t it? The answer to her question.

She would always, always be in love with Tora. But none of that mattered anymore. Tora was her sister. She had never needed anything else.

“I missed you too, Tora.” whispered Loki, and her sister squeezed her even more, making her chuckle breathlessly. “Stop _squishing_ me, you oaf.”

“No.” muttered Tora, wetly, against her hair. “I won’t.”

Loki chuckled again, basking in her warmth, pressing her cheek against her shoulder and letting Tora hold her. They had _so much_ to talk about, so much to _explain_. Sixteen years of missing one another, of lying to her parents and lying to herself, and a terrifying amount of thorns to be pulled out. It would still hurt like hell before they could set their records straight.

But Loki had missed her _so much_ , and now she didn’t anymore. It felt as if she’d been walking for miles on end, not really sure where she’d been trying to go, all the while desperate to turn around and go back the way she’d come. But she’d finally arrived. She could finally stop chasing all that she didn’t have, and stay put, and stay here and be _okay,_ for the first time in her whole life.

She had come back to the start, but everything was different, now. Loving Tora didn’t hurt anymore: as far as she was concerned, that was as good place as any to begin rebuilding her burnt bridges. “Tora?” she called, softly, her lips pressed against her neck.

Tora sniffled, shaking slightly, her breath coming in shallow bursts.“Yeah?” she asked, her voice rough, a breath away from crying.

“I love you.” replied the younger girl, closing her eyes and breathing her scent in deeply. Shampoo, deodorant, and Gatorade, exactly like she remembered it.

“I love you, too.” murmured Tora, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

And her life finally came back around full circle.

She had arrived home.

.

.

.

Fucking, stupid demons. They always had to go for her tech. Damned things cost her more money daily than keeping the Shield Headquarters cost her in a whole month.

“Bunch of suckers.” she muttered, finally managing to pry her glove apart to get to the circuitry. “Took me enough fucking work to invent this technology, as if I needed these frigging abominations destroying my repulsors every time I go out hunting.” She felt for her goggles behind her, putting them on one-handedly. “Pricks.”

Fury yawned next to her, keeping an eye on her Soul Gem as it got slowly purified. Lazily, he reached out to a Grief Cube that had already saturated, pawing it in a swift motion and gulping it down with gusto. He stretched, looking every bit as a domestic cat as he twisted around trying to find a comfortable position, ending up in such a contortioned stance, Toni’s column hurt just looking at him.

“Pass me my screwdriver.” asked the girl, examining the damage carefully. Her boots were, thankfully, intact, and the Arc Reactor was equally safe – but her gloves had nearly fucking _melted,_ and flying without stabilizers had been an experience she wasn’t willing to repeat.

Fury went around the circle of Cubes, carefully resting at equal distance from her Soul Gem, and picked the tool, walking back to Toni. “Are you going to keep on hunting?” inquired the panther, licking his paw indifferently as the wind picked up around them. That was a downside to sitting on top of buildings.

“Hummm.” agreed the girl, shifting to keep her bare legs away from the cold concrete. “I’m gathering some extra Cube Seeds as a peace offering. Either way, building a stock never hurts.”

Fury stared up at her, tilting his head in a semblance of curiosity. “Do you really think the local Magical Girls will be interested in setting up a Shield chapter in the city?” he questioned, managing to sound irkingly doubtful for a creature with no capacity for human emotion.

“Might as well try.” she muttered, pulling tiny mechanic parts off the damaged glove. “With Loki having to explain to her parents where she’s been for the last four years, we aren’t going home any time soon.”

The panther reached forward to snatch another used Grief Cube, this time eating it slowly, as if to give him time to think. “Truthfully, I’m not completely sure having a support system in place will be beneficial for us in the long run.” He laid down next to her, leaning against her leg and closing his eyes. “If your theories on the nature of the Shield Effect are true, you’ve already cost us a much more profitable method of harnessing energy.”

“I told you already it’s not a theory.” complained Toni, pushing her goggles up and frowning at him. “It’s what _happened.”_

Fury looked up at her, purring lowly as the girl scratched him between the ears. “But you have no way of proving it.” he argued, arching into the touch. “If the rules of the universe have changed the way you say they have, no one can hope to prove it. And no one remembers any of it but you – you could’ve imagined everything.”

“We can’t prove gravity is real, either.” replied Toni, reaching for her belt and rummaging around for the right tools. “But it explains why things fall if you throw them up.”

Fury seemed to consider it, his tail brushing against her hip rhythmically. “Well, it’s true we can’t explain why exhausted Soul Gems disappear.” he conceded, turning on his back and stretching again. “And as of now, we can’t refute your hypothesis, either.”

“But I can’t really comprehend why your friend would make a wish like that.” proceeded the panther, looking up at Toni in that way that unsettled girls into blurting their minds out. “Nothing has really changed. Even if those so-called ‘Witches’ don’t exist anymore, the demons we battle fulfill basically the same role, don’t they?”

Toni rolled her eyes at him, nudging him to make him turn around again. “A. You are really fucking creepy. And B.” she stopped for half a minute, running several calculations in her mind before proceeding. “Just believe me when I tell you it’s better. You are really not equipped to understand why it was worse before.” she felt behind her for one of the disassembled parts, catching it with the tip of her fingers and locking it in place. “Besides, our relationship with you was all kinds of terrible. At least now I don’t have the urge to shoot at your face every time I see you.”

“Hmmmm.” hummed the panther, thoughtfully, getting up to collect the rest of the used Grief Cubes. “As I thought, it really _is_ impossible to understand human beings.”

Toni chuckled, looking at him over her shoulder. “We haven’t figured our _own_ shit out yet _. Of course_ you wouldn’t get it.” she put her glove down, picking her clean Soul Gem and placing it back carefully in the Arc Reactor. “Don’t fry your alien brain over it, Fury.” she added, reaching out to let him climb in up her arm. “We’ve got work to do.”

The panther sighed, perching in her shoulder and watching the ground attentively. “Are you sure your repulsors are working properly? If you jump from so up high and they fail, it’ll take a lot of magic to fix your body.”

“Of course I’m sure it’s working.” replied Toni, mildly annoyed, putting her glove back on. “I’m a technopath, remember? I know what goes on with my own damn tech.”

Fury nestled closer to her, holding on tightly, and made a neutral noise of agreement. “The miasma sure is thick tonight.” he commented, dark eyes still scanning the city analytically. “No matter how many we kill, they just keep coming back, don’t they?”

Toni adjusted her repulsors, making sure all the joints were still in place, scanning the immediate surroundings for any threats. Tall shadows glimmered at the edges of reality: with expressionless faces and long white robes, they sucked people’s souls quietly when they had their backs turned, sharply seeping through the cracks. Fury was right about that – they just never seemed to end.

Stephanie’s wish hadn’t fixed the world.

“No use complaining.” she retorted, shortly, holding her hands together and stretching. “Let’s get to work.”

Toni took a couple of steps back, running and jumping over the edge of the building. Her repulsors whirred to life, lifting her in the air, wind going through her hair, surrounding her body, making her blood rush in her ears and her heart beat with buzzying strength. Toni laughed out loud, smugly, feeling her muscles bursting with life as adrenaline filled her veins.

Flying hadn’t been exactly what she had in mind when she’d begun developing the technology for Yinsen’s new wheelchair, but Toni was never the one to do things half-way. Yinsen would’ve approved, she thought, with that side-ways smile of his and an ironic remark about her having read too many comic books. Smirking, she looped through the air, cutting the power to her boots and falling swiftly towards the street, the movement attracting a group of demons like a pack of famine beasts.

Stephanie’s wish hadn’t fixed the girls, either. They were still broken, still damaged, and still dying. New curses kept on being born and growing stronger every day – their work was just never done. Nothing was solved. Nothing was perfect. Things weren’t even necessarily _easier._

Magical Girls were still laying their lives on the line, working themselves to the bare bone for a chance at fulfilling a single wish.

But that was really all that they had ever needed. A chance.

Toni smiled wider as she landed on a knee, leaning her weight on a hand to steady her fall. Above her head, demons loomed, hatred and wrongness wrapping the air around them. Stephanie had given her a chance to start it all over again for one last time – to walk away from the fight and live another life, to not have to worry every night if someone she cared about would be the one to die that time.

Too bad she was too stubborn to leave all the work to her. Toni stood up, grinning, raising her hands and pointing her palms towards the approaching demons. This wasn’t over, yet. Between Stephanie’s new gained godly cosmic powers, and her being a technopath genius, Toni wouldn’t give up on her just yet. She had come all this way. _They_ had come all this way.

They would find each other again. She knew that. And on the meantime, she would live out her last new chance to the fullest.

“Watch out for me, Cap.” whispered Toni, firing her repulsor blasts and grinning as her blue ribbon billowed in the sudden breeze. “I’m going to get you.”

.

.

.

Never forget,

Always, somewhere,

Someone is fighting for you.

As long as you remember her,

You are not alone.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just found out this fic is roughly the side of the fifth HP book. I do not know how I feel about this. I wrote an HP book in four months. 
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> This fic was an AMAZING exercise on my grammar and orthography (thanks to my most lovely and competent beta), but specially on dramatic flow, pacing and plot structure. Having Madoka to base the history's development on really helped me figure out when everything should happen. A great experience altogether. 
> 
> I hope all those who've read this have enjoyed it, and that fans from either side might've liked the crossover! Thank you to all who've commented or left kudos. Keep in mind I'm open to anything you want to tell me about the fic, specially regarding warnings or offensive content.
> 
> Love to all!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Only the Things the Heart Believes Are True](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024347) by [lalunaticscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe)




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